


Another Vaultie

by inadaydream



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, NSFW, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2019-09-12 23:49:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 59,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16881597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inadaydream/pseuds/inadaydream
Summary: (Since Bethesda wouldn't let me romance Deacon, I wrote this instead.  Originally, this story started 3 years pre-game, then ended within the game's timeline, but I moved it to 2 years because it worked better for the pacing.)Dawn, another vault refugee, has been living in the Commonwealth for a while.  A threat forces The Railroad into her life.  While initially reserved, she starts to make friends and open up a little about her past, Deacon being the one she tells her secrets to the most.**Chapters 26 & 29 are nsfw****Art work at the end of Chapter 25****Original poem by Deacon - Chapter 27 :)  **





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> All the vault numbers not mentioned in the game. #98 seemed like a safe choice to use.  
> (78, 79, 80, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 89, 90, 91, 93, 97, 98, 99, 102, 103, 104, 105, 107, 109, 110, 115, 116, 117)

Drummer Boy comes over, handing a slip of coded paper to Desdemona.  She takes a moment to look it over, then calls over two of her agents.

“Hey Deacon, Glory.  I’ve got a mission for you.”

Glory sets her cup down, and heads over.  Deacon, however, lets out a big sigh, and pretends it’s a lot of work to walk that far.  Neither Des nor Glory make a comment, but both roll their eyes at his antics.

Once they’re close by, Desdemona briefs them on the situation.

“Word is there’s been some increased activity near Al’s Place.  I’ll have to have you go in and escort the two living there to a different safe house.  I’m sending both of you because I want you to take them across the river to Lexington.  May should be waiting for you there.  Try to stay off the beaten path.  I need you to be discreet.”

“Gen 2 synths?  Is that why we’re being so cautious?” Deacon speaks up.  “I mean it’s not like they can blend in like the rest of us.  A metal body tends to standout.”

“No, not gen 2, but same problem.”

“So, what are we dealing with?” Deacon questions, his curiosity getting the best of him.

Desdemona sighs, and takes a puff of her cigarette.  “Does it matter?  Are you turning down the job?”

“Nope.  Just naturally curious,” he says with a grin.

“Good.  One is a reformed Assaultatron, and one is a human with cybernetic implants…. from vault 98, I believe.”  She watches both of their reactions. 

Glory speaks up first.  “Is that safe?  I’ve gone up against an Assaultatron, and they have a lot of fire power.  So… can’t it protect itself? “

“Forget the Assaultatron,” Deacon interjects.  “What about the vaultie?  Aren’t they on The Institute’s radar?”

“Yes.  She is.  But it’s no different than any of the synths we’ve helped.  And need I remind you, we’re on The Institute’s radar too,” Dez replies, leveling a look at Deacon.

He concedes.  “Alright.  When do we head out?”

“Now.  Go pack your things.”

***********

 

Deacon and Glory arrive at Al’s Place with very little problem.  They ran into one group of raiders along the way that had to be dealt with, but they managed to skirt any other dangerous areas.

“I heard this place used to be a clinic,” Glory states.  “Now I guess it’s just used as a chop shop, you know, besides being a safe house.”

“For someone who deals in scraps, it’s one of the neatest places I’ve been to,” Deacon remarks as he takes in the lack of rubble or rusted cars out front.  This makes it real easy to see where the railroad sign is.  “Guess we go around that side.  I’ll knock, but you can do the talking.”

“That’s probably for the best,” she smirks.

The door opens on the second knock.  An older hunched-over man smiles up at the two.  “Did your car break down?”

Glory answers with the code words, “We ran out of gas.”

The man steps to the side to let them pass, while Deacon mutters, “We’ve got to change our secret phrase.  We’ve been using that one forever, and no one even drives a car.  It doesn’t make any sense.”

Glory rolls her eyes, and talks to the man as they follow him further inside.  “Don’t mind him.  He complains a lot.”

“Do not,” Deacon whines.

The man stops near another door; his hand resting on the handle.  “I don’t mind.  The two here aren’t much for idle chatter, and everyone else that drops by is usually in a rush.  It’s nice to hear some real conversation.  I’m Al by the way.”  With that he opens the door into a break room.  “And that is P.A.M.” he says pointing to an assaultatron standing in the corner, “and this is Dawn.”

A young woman, wearing a worn jacket over an obvious, blue, vault suit, is sitting in a chair nearby.  She has her dark hair pulled back, and cautiously watches the group walk in.

“Hi,” Glory offers.

“Sup,” Deacon adds, looking around the room.

Dawn says nothing, but P.A.M. responds.  “Processing…. Introductory token recognized.  Hello.”

“Friendly group,” Deacon grumbles, Glory nudges him in the ribs.  “Ow.”

Al chuckles.  “Exactly why I welcomed your banter earlier.  P.A.M. isn’t much of a conversationalist but at least she’ll respond to you most of the time.  Dawn is pretty quiet, but she **is** more helpful than P.A.M.”

“This unit’s primary goal is to process data, and create statistical models with my probability matrix,” P.A.M. interjects.

“Yes.  She makes predictions about the future.  She’s saved my hide a few times based on her calculations.  I’ll miss that,” Al reminisces.

“And what does Dawn do?” Deacon questions.

Al smiles.  “She helps with the chores around here, and will go pick up supplies for me.  And before you start, I know what you’re thinking, I’m not keeping her safe if I’m not keeping her hidden, but she knows what areas to avoid, and knows her way around a wide variety of weapons.  I don’t have to worry about her when I send her out.”

“Then why are we here?” Glory wonders aloud.

Al frowns and moves away; sighing.  “Dawn didn’t feel it was necessary, but both P.A.M. and I agreed that the likelihood of something bad happening was increasing every day.”  He sits down next to the young woman.  She makes room for him, and looks at him warmly; like a daughter to a father.

He pats her hand, looking older than he did when he opened the door.  Deacon feels bad for him.  If they take these two away, he’ll be left alone.  He doesn’t know if he wants to do that to the guy, screw what Dez said.

“Hey,” he speaks up, “do you have somewhere to go if these two leave?  Not sure we’d have a place for you, but you never know.”

“Thank-you, but no, I’ll be fine.  I’ve got a fellow that will be happy to work here fulltime.”

“Alright, but remember I offered,” Deacon states with a shrug.  “So what exactly are we dealing with that you need to move them now?  And please tell me she doesn’t go on supply runs in the vault suit.  It’d stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Hmm… no, she usually wears some old clothes.  And, as to what made us contact headquarters… Well, a few months ago I saw a synth pass thru the area.  I didn’t think much of it, until I saw a second one a week later.”

“You sure it wasn’t the same one walking around in circles?” Deacon jokes.

“Yes,” Al answers wryly.  “It had a few different repairs done to it.  I can spot those things pretty easily, being in my line of work.  But what really had me and P.A.M. starting to worry was what happened last month.”

“Which was?” Glory asks.

“There were about half a dozen synths roaming the town, knocking on doors.  They were here for about 3 days, then disappeared.  Not sure what they wanted.  Everyone I asked said they didn’t say anything when you answered the door, they just moved on to the next one.  Haven’t seen another since, but something tells me they’ll be back.  I want these two gone before then… somewhere safe, and hell if I can get them to go on their own.”

“Alright then.”  Deacon claps his hands together.  “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Actually,” Glory says, “I’d like to take a quick nap, then leave at night.  Makes for better cover.”

“Ok.  Guess that’s the plan, then.  Got a place for us to bunk down for a bit?”  Deacon looks to Al for an answer.

“Dawn.  Show them to a room.  They can borrow mine if you want.”

She gets up, and starts to walk out of the room; down a hall.  Glory and Deacon follow behind.  She stops at a set of doors.

“This is mine.  That one’s Al’s.  You may sleep in whichever you prefer.”  And she walks back to the break room.

“We can do rock-paper-scissors for it?” Deacon suggests.

“How about we take the door closest to us?  This one’s mine, that one’s yours.”

“Party pooper.”

Glory turns to go into Al’s room, but Deacon stops her.  “Hey… I didn’t stare at her or anything, but did it seem like she had any cybernetic implants?  Nothing really stood out to me besides that suit.”

Glory thinks for a moment.  “No.  Nothing seemed out of the ordinary for me either, but I’m a synth, and no one can really tell, so maybe she has some Gen 3 implants.”

“Yeah, I guess, but I don’t think so.  Des wouldn’t have been so worried if she could just blend in with the crowd.”

“Well, we can find out later.  I’m gonna get some shuteye.”


	2. Hittin' The Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for P.A.M and Dawn to head out to the next safe house.   
> Glory and Deacon learn a bit about Dawn's cybernetics.
> 
>  
> 
> *********************************************

_It’s not much, but it’s more than The Railroad provides_ , Deacon thinks as he settles down on the soft mattress.  _Hell, even the blanket is better than the ones Dez hands out._

No sooner does he drift off, than he is being woken up, or so it feels like.

A pair of blue eyes peer at him.  At first he doesn’t understand who they belong to.  One looks normal, pretty, but normal, and the other is a slightly brighter shade with small lines running thru it, like a circuit.  He blinks and sits up. 

“Is that eye an implant?”

“Yes.”  She doesn’t seem offended that he asks, nor self-conscious that he noticed.  She just sits back watching him.

“Any other implants?”

“Yes.”

“Which are?”

“Your friend asked me to wake you.  She said we should get ready to go.”  Dawn gets up to leave, and Deacon notices that she has a bag on her shoulders.

“Uh, yeah, sure.  Do you have everything you need?”

She pats the bag, and offers him a small smile.  “Yes,” she says, exiting the room, and leaving him to tidy up the bed.

He shakes his head, and chuckles to himself.  _Al wasn’t kidding about her not talking much, but at least the vault suit is more covered up today.  Wouldn’t want to walk around the Commonwealth with a target painted on our backs._

He grabs his shades off the floor.  He had set them next to his shoes when he laid down.  He puts them back on, slips on his shoes, and heads after her. _Time to jet,_ he thinks.

************

 

After a few tearful goodbyes from Dawn and Al, the group is on the move; sticking to the road but trying to avoid going into any towns.  It’s a fine balance in the dark; trying to avoid both Raiders and creatures that go bump in the night.

Everyone seems to be moving along with ease.  No one’s run into a tree, or stumbled over a pothole.

“That eye of yours help you see in the dark?” Deacon asks.

“Those glasses help you?” Dawn volleys back.

Deacon chuckles, but Glory speaks up.  “She makes a good point, you know?  You wear those things all the time.  How can you see?”

“Tinker Tom souped ‘em up for me.  They block the sun, have a night vision option, keep debris out, and protect me from lasers being shot at my face.  It might mar my check, but it won’t take out an eye.”

“Nice.  He should make a pair for everyone.  I’d look good in them, don’t you think,” Glory says.

“Uh.. no can do,” Deacon replies.  “These are just for me.  That was the deal Tinker and I made.  You’re gonna have get your own trademark eye wear.”

“Brat.”

“Perhaps.  But I can’t have everyone running around looking like me.”  He pauses for a moment, thinking. “Of course… that might be a good idea.  Think of how easy it would be for me to blend in with a group of me’s.  You might be on to something, Glory.”

She scoffs at him.  “Just keep walking.  No one wants to look like you.”

“Ouch.  You wound me.”

************

 

Deacon tries to stifle a yawn, but fails.  “We should be getting close, and if not, I vote for P.A.M. to carry me the rest of the way, cuz I am dead on my feet.”

Dawn and Glory both chuckle.  “Why is it only the guy who’s complaining?” Glory says sarcastically, goading Deacon.

“Cuz I’m the only one who can get tired,” he points out.

“What?  Synths get tired.”

“Takes ‘em a lot longer,” he grumbles.  “Seriously, though, if we’re not almost there, I need a break.”

“Calculating distance traveled.  Analyzing.  Calculating distance to location.  Analyzing,” P.A.M. processes.

“Can we speed this up, I’m falling asleep here,” Deacon whines.

“Calculating average speed.  Analyzing.  Probability of arriving at destination within the next 5 hours……. 12%.”

“Sounds like break-time to me.”

“Fine,” Glory huffs.  They stop and survey the area.  “There’s a shack over there,” she points out, “but I don’t see much else for cover.  And at least it’s off the path, under a highway.  Should be relatively safe for a few hours.”

They trudge over to the small building.  It seems set back enough, and there isn’t too much damage to the structure, so it shouldn’t cave in on them either.

“Alright, well.  It was lovely talking to you all, but I’m going to pass out now.”  Deacon goes in, plops down on the mattress already there, and promptly tries to go to sleep.

“P.A.M and I will be look-outs, take a load off Dawn,” Glory tells her.

P.A.M. stands outside by the door, while Glory sits in the shade, on a patch of grass.

Dawn goes inside, and slumps down against the wall in a corner.  She just closes her eyes, when Deacon coughs to get her attention.  She opens her eyes, looking at him.

“It might not be ideal, but sharing a mattress has to be better than trying to sleep over there.”

She doesn’t reply, just continues watching him.

He sits up a bit, and puts his hands up to show he’s not a threat.  “I’ll behave.  It’s Glory you have to watch out for.”  He drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “She’s handsy.”

“I **can** hear you.  And stop messing with that girl.”

Deacon laughs, laying back down.  He scoots closer to the wall, and pats the spot next to him.  “I don’t bite.  Come on.”

She slowly gets up, and Deacon can see that he’s not the only one who’s exhausted.  She shuffles over, and drops onto the mattress.  A frown mars his face.  They covered a lot of distance last night; anyone would be worn out.  He should’ve made them stop sooner, he thinks.  Dawn might have cybernetic implants, but, clearly, she’s still very much human. 

He moves to lay on his back, but there’s little room considering how Dawn landed.  “Hey, give a guy some room,” Deacon gripes, but is met with soft, even breathing.  _Shit, she’s already asleep._

He does his best to mold around her without touching her, and manages to find a somewhat comfortable position.  Sleep comes quickly after that.

*************

 

“A nap was just what I needed.  Glad we stopped,” Deacon croons as they stroll along.  “How about you, Hubflower?”

Dawn looks at him, a bit taken aback.  Glory snorts out a laugh, “What did you just call her?”

“Hubflower.  Her eyes kind of look like the blue ones, and she makes about as much noise as they do.  No good?”

“No.”

“Alright, what about… Grease Monkey?”

Glory and Dawn both laugh out loud.  “Hell, no,” Glory states.

“What?  She worked in a chop shop.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think she fixed things so much as dismantled them.”

“Fine, but she’ll need a new name.  Change her appearance.  And what about P.A.M.?”

“Warning.  Adjustments to this unit could result in a cataclysmic cascade failure.”

“I’m guessing that’s a no to changing your name too?” Deacon quips.

Before P.A.M. can reply, Dawn jumps in, “My name was already changed.”

“So, it’s not really Dawn?” Glory asks.

“No.”

“Is that the name Al gave you?” Glory says softly, worrying that talking about the old man might be a sore spot right now.

“It means ‘a new beginning’,” Dawn replies.

“Doesn’t really answer my question, but ok.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that she likes to change the subject.  Hard to get a straight reply out of this one,” Deacon interjects.

“Oh, well, look who’s talking,” Glory scoffs.

“I answer things.”

“Do you?” Glory raises an eyebrow. “Seems to me that if we can get an answer out of you, it’s only 20% truth, if that.”

“Ow.  That one hit right here,” he says, tapping his chest.

Glory rolls her eyes, and picks up her speed, passing Deacon, to lead their little group.  This puts Deacon closer to Dawn, so he tries talking to her again.

“Well, how was your nap?”

“Good.”

“You look better.”  Dawn gives him a quizzical look.  “Not sure how gorgeous I looked, but you definitely looked like a ghoul.”

Dawn shoots him an insulted look, then turns away.

He laughs, “Sorry, that came out wrong.  You just seemed really tired.  But look at you now. So refreshed!”

She casts him another cold look, but says nothing.

“Don’t worry about him,” Glory calls back.  “Deacon’s just being his normal, charming self.”

“Hey.  I know how to be charming.”

“If you say so.”

Everyone keeps walking in silence for nearly an hour before Deacon decides he can’t take it anymore. 

“Look if no one’s going to talk to pass the time, I’m going to start singing, and I don’t know many songs, so I might just end up repeating the same lines over and over again.”

“No one talked last night,” Glory points out.

“Yeah, but we were trying to be stealthy.  It’s daytime now.  We’ll see the enemies coming before they spot us.”

“You hope.”

“I know.  So P.A.M.  How’d you end up at Al’s Place?”

“Scanning memory.  Error detected in Block 178, Sector 45.  Unable to access.  This unit will now run a level three self-diagnostic,” P.A.M. states, continuing her set pace.

“Alright then.  Guess I won’t be getting a reply out of her.”  Both Deacon and Glory share a shrug. 

He turns to Dawn, thinking he has a better chance of continuing his conversation with P.A.M. even though she’s running tests on her program, but he gives it a shot anyways.  “What about you?  How’d you end up at Al’s Place?”

Dawn continues walking, making Deacon sweat it out, but it’s not on purpose.  She’s trying to decide how much to say.  After some hesitation, she answers him.  “I was wandering the Commonwealth, and he saw I was…. damaged.  He offered to give me some parts.”  She goes quiet for a bit.  No one pushes her.  “He scanned as an ally, so I accepted.  When he said I could stay, I did.”

“Ooookay.  So I have a few follow up questions.  One, how were you damaged? And two, you scanned him??” Deacon looks genuinely confused.

She chuckles and half-turns towards him.  Tapping her face, near her enhanced eye, she says, “Yes, I scanned him.”  She turns back to see where’s she’s walking.  “And it was my leg that needed repairs.”

“So you’ve got a fake leg too,” he assumes.

“Rude,” Glory shoots back.

“Sorry,” Deacon insists.  “Soooo, Dawn.  I hear your leg is cybernetic too, yes?  Better?”

“You’re an ass,” Glory informs him.

Dawn smiles, “Yes, my leg is cybernetic.”

“Which one?”

“Why must you interrogate her?”

“I’m curious.  It’s natural,” he replies holding his hands up in a surrendering gesture.

“It’s ok, Glory.  I’m not offended.”  Dawn turns her attention to Deacon.  “My right leg.  From the knee down.”

Deacon’s eyes travel down her legs.  He frowns.  “They don’t look any different from mine.”

“Nor mine,” Glory says, glancing back.

“Touché,” Deacon concedes.

Dawn stops walking, so everyone stops; even P.A.M.  Dawn pulls her pant leg up, exposing what looks eerily similar to a Gen 2 synth leg, minus the skin.  After a few heartbeats, she covers her leg back up, and starts walking.  P.A.M.  immediately follows, while Glory and Deacon take a minute to process.

Glory recovers first.  “Aww. It’s like she’s our love child.”  That startles Deacon, who stares at Glory with his mouth open.  She laughs, and shrugs.  “She is part human, and part synth.   It’s a good thing I’m not into you.”  She laughs again, and walks away, leaving him standing there.  It takes him a moment to collect himself, making him have to jog to catch up.

“Uh… first of all, it hasn’t been confirmed whether or not I’m human, and second…. you’re **not** into me, are you?” Deacon questions uncertainly.

She looks him up and down, debating whether or not she should keep messing with him.  After a moment, she decides to be nice, “No, sorry.  You’re just not my type.”

“Good.  It’s best if I’m not anyone’s type,” he cautions.

Glory gives him a look, but doesn’t comment.  Everyone in The Railroad has a back story, but that doesn’t mean they want to share.   She knows enough about Deacon to know that even if she pried, he’d just make something up anyways, so why bother. 


	3. At A Crossroads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group finally arrived at May's, and Dawn's not sure it's where she wants to be. 
> 
>  
> 
> ******************************

P.A.M. is the first one to break the silence that has fallen over the group.  “The destination is now less than 100 feet from this unit’s present location.”

A collective sigh of relief goes thru them.  Everyone’s tired of walking, and Deacon could use a diversion from his morose thoughts.  Perhaps there’ll be chattier people at the safe house.  _That would be appreciated_ , he thinks.

As they approach, they see ghouls littering the streets.  It looks like they’ve already been taken care of, but everyone is on alert.  A few move, and are quickly dispatched.  P.A.M. manages to obliterate one that nearly gets the drop on Glory.

The rest of the short jaunt to meet up with May remains uneventful.

They follow the signs to a cellar behind an old building.  Glory pulls opens the door, letting Deacon take the lead this time.  He adjusts his glasses, allowing him to see into the gloom. 

After they’re all in, Glory shuts the entrance behind them, giving Deacon a little shiver.  “Anyone else feel like we’ve just been sealed up in our tomb?  No?  Just me?”  He sighs and leads them onward.

Deacon knocks on the locked door at the end of the corridor. 

A voice calls thru, “Did your car break down?”

Deacon rolls his eyes, and mutters the expected reply, “We ran out of gas.”

Several locks are thrown back, and the door is opened to reveal a common room with a few people mulling about.  Glory and Deacon recognize one or two faces as they’re escorted to May, who’s sitting in the back corner engaged in conversation.

Introductions are made, sleeping arrangements assigned, and food dished out.

Glory and Deacon banter with the other agents.  P.A.M. even joins in occasionally.  Only Dawn sits apart from everyone.  She picks at her food, observing.  Deacon keeps an eye on her.  He watches a few people try to strike up a conversation early on, but quickly move to join the larger crowd.  Eventually May goes and sits by her.  _Maybe she’ll have more luck_ , he thinks, turning away.

“Hi,” May says softly. 

“Hi,” Dawn replies.

“Not much for socializing?”

Dawn meets her gaze, asking politely, “Is it required?”

May chuckles, “Of course not.”

“Then I’d rather sit here,” she states.

They both sit quietly for a bit.  Dawn’s slowly eating, when May speaks up again.  “Care to share anything about yourself?  You might be here for a while.”

“No.”  Her reply isn’t rude, just a simple statement of fact.

Knowing when to push and when to leave well enough alone, May stands up, stretching.  “Alright, I’ll leave you to it,” and she walks over to the corner they first found her in.  She sits down in a plush chair and begins speaking to an agent.

Dawn watches her walk off, setting her plate down.

“You done, or do you want something else?  Pretty sure there’s more if you’re hungry.”  Deacon gestures to the empty plate.

“I’m fine,” Dawn answers.

Deacon plops down next to her.  “Yeah, I ate enough to last me all the way back to Headquarters.  Glory might have to carry me.”

Dawn cracks a small smile.

“You like that?  Cuz I got more jokes.”

Dawn’s smile widens some.  “No, I’m good.  Thank-you.”

“If you change your mind, let me know.”  He lulls into a comfortable silence, which only lasts a few minutes.  “I saw May come over here.  She have any words of wisdom for you?”

“No,” Dawn shakes her head slightly.  “She just wanted to know why I didn’t join everyone.”

“Yeah?  What’d you say?”

She turns and looks at him.  “You’re leaving us here?”  There is a slight accusation in her voice; at least Deacon thinks he hears one.

He studies her for a moment.  She just sits there, patiently waiting for a reply.  He scans her blue eyes, and decides to be straight with her; a rare treat she’d think, if she knew him better.

“We are.  In the morning.  Glory and me have to get back, but you’re in good hands here.” 

She looks away, watching a small group mill about.  “Do I have to stay?”

“That’s the idea.  Though, eventually, you might get moved somewhere else.  Somewhere safer, or somewhere where you can do some good.  Up to you.”

“Do I have to stay tomorrow?”

He’s not sure what she’s asking, and a million different reasons float thru his mind, from briefly romantic to somewhat sinister.  He hopes she’s not really a double-agent, and almost chuckles out loud at his thoughts, instead he decides to pry.  “Why?  Got big plans somewhere else?”

“No.”

“Don’t like the atmosphere here?  I admit it made me a little claustrophobic when we first came in, but it’s kinda homey.  If you don’t mind the lack of sunlight.”

She doesn’t smile at that one.  “What if I wish to continue traveling with you and Glory?”

He chuckles.  “No, I don’t think so.  Al and Dez wanted us to get you somewhere safe.  You’re somewhere safe.  Stay.  Enjoy.  Being safe isn’t always an option in the Commonwealth.”

“I know, I used to be one of those reasons,” she whispers.

Deacon frowns.  “Care to elaborate?”

“No.”

They sit quietly for a bit.  Deacon notices both Glory and May are watching them, though they’re both being discrete about it.

After a few heartbeats, Deacon speaks up again.  “Look.  Just give it some time.  How long were you with Al?”

“Nearly a year.”

“Then staying here a few months shouldn’t be that bad.  Right?”

“I can give it a few months.”

“Good.”  Deacon relaxes some, not sure when he started tensing up.  Was it when she suggested traveling with him?  He shakes his head, deciding to let the matter drop.  It’s been a long day. 

“Time to get some shut-eye,” he states, getting up with a yawn, and an exaggerated stretch.


	4. Lost and Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn decides the safe house isn't for her. 
> 
>  
> 
> ************************************

It’s been an exhausting few weeks, but Deacon’s got some good intel for Desdemona.  He hopes she’ll be as thrilled as he is.  He saunters over to her. 

She has a smile on her face, but rolls her eyes when she sees his smug expression.  “This better be as good as you’re making it out to be.”

“Oh.  It is.”  Deacon drops some papers on her desk. 

Dez picks them up, skimming thru the documents; taking in Deacon’s notes on the side.  After a bit, she meets his eyes (as well as you can when he always has his shades on).  “This **is** good.  Wow!  It’s times like this I’m reminded why I keep you around.”

“It’s not because of my charming personality?”

Desdemona laughs.  “That’s part of it sometimes.  It can get pretty dreary around here.” 

Turning to some agents nearby, she waves with the papers in her hand.  “Got some work for you.  Be prepared to leave tonight.  We’ll go over this in a minute.”  She turns back to Deacon.  “Oh, before I forget.  I got word on those two you moved from Al’s Place to May’s.”

Deacon pretends he’s not really interested, and instead checks out some of the notes on a nearby desk.  “Yeah?”

Dez isn’t buying his act, but doesn’t call him out on it.  She figures what she has to say will get a rise out of him, at least according to Glory.  Seems he made a friend.  “Yeah.  The young woman from the vault took off the day after you and Glory left.  We thought she might head back to Al, but no one’s spotted her there.  We’re monitoring that area for synths.”  She watches him.

He froze when he heard the news.  It shouldn’t have surprised him, Dawn told him she wanted to leave, but he thought she was sincere when she said she’d tough it out for a few months.  He should know not to trust what people say.

He turns and leans back against the desk.  Feet and arms crossed, his head tilted back like he’s looking at the ceiling, but his eyes are closed.  “You want me to go find her?”

“It’s not really a priority right now.  The assaultatron, P.A.M., is still there, and she’s been helping out.  Might be a good asset to The Railroad.  And who knows about the vaultie.  She might’ve gone back or,” she leaves the thought hanging.  After a puff on her cigarette, followed by a sigh, she continues, “Well, we both know it’s dangerous in The Commonwealth, especially on your own.  I’ll let you know if I hear anything else, but…”

Deacon straightens up, leveling a look at Dez.  “But, what?”

“Well, if you wanted to keep your eyes and ears out for her, it couldn’t hurt.”  Dez puts her cigarette out, and walks over to the agents she’s recruited to follow-up on Deacon’s intel.  He sighs, watching her leave.

Tinker Tom approaches him.  “Sad news about that lady, huh?”

“Maybe.  Maybe not.  Seems she decided to head out on her own.”

“Yeah, and we all know how that usually turns out,” Tinker says sadly, shuffling off.

“Yeah, we do,” Deacon mutters to himself, hoping Al was telling the truth when he said Dawn knew how to handle herself.

************

 

“I’m winged, dammit,” Deacon mumbles to himself.  “Arm’s out of commission.” 

“Could you use a hand?” Dawn asks, stepping out of the safety of a nearby building. 

Deacon hides his surprise well.  “Hand, arm, whatever you have to spare,” he replies.

She smiles at him, then scans the area with her cybernetic eye.  Two raiders show up on her V.A.T.S.  Using an Institute Pistol she claimed a month or so ago, she takes them out.  She moves by Deacon, and squats down.  “Got any stimpaks?”

“Yeah, on the side I can’t use.”

She reaches into the inside pocket of the jacket he’s wearing, pulls out a stimpak, and injects him.  “Better?”

“Probably.  Give it a minute.”

She sits down next to him, scanning the area again for good measure.  “It seems safe so far,” she comments.

She can feel him studying her, and she lets him.  _At least he’s not a surgeon_ , she thinks.  She can do without them ever studying her again.

Slowly Deacon feels his arm heal.  He flexes his fingers and rotates his shoulder.  With a grin he pushes himself off the pavement.  “Good as new.”

Dawn gets up with him.  “Glad to hear it.”  She gives him a quick smile, then turns to walk away.

“Hey, wait up,” Deacon calls.  She stops and turns back.  “What happened to you toughing it out for a few months?”

She grins at him, though no joy touches her eyes.  “I did tough it out the last few months.”

“Sure, but not at the safe house.”  He tries to keep the hurt out of his voice.  He shouldn’t have believed her.

“True,” she says looking down the road.  She looks back to him.  “Help me loot those raiders?”

“Your wish is my strong recommendation.  Gonna tell me what you’ve been up to?”

They start down the road together.  “Probably not,” Dawn retorts with a sly grin.

“Of course not,” Deacon grumbles, and why should he expect anything else?  She often evades questions, same as him.  Must be why he wants to pry so much, that and it’s his job to know things.  _No other ulterior motive here_ , he thinks.    

Dawn rifles thru one of the raiders pockets, pulling out some bullets.

“Load up,” Deacon advises.  “The Railroad’s always looking for more weapons and ammo.”

“You’re welcome to whatever I don’t need.”

“You’re generosity knows no bounds, I see.”

She smiles at him; one that brightens up her whole face.  He can’t help but return it.  “Well,” she says, “if you aren’t taking off right away, I’ll even share some of my food.”

“Be still my beating heart,” Deacon jokes.

***********

 

After a meal of grilled radroach, and an amusing tale from Deacon about a mission gone awry, Dawn suggests heading out.

“You going my way?” Deacon quips. 

Her jaw clenches.  “I thought you didn’t want me to travel with you?”   This time the accusation in her voice is clear.

“I was doing my job; keeping you safe.”  He takes in her appearance, and how she just dispatched those raiders.  “Clearly you can keep yourself safe, but I’d sleep better at night if I knew that was a fact instead of an assumption.”

He sees she’s a little taken aback by his statement.  Thinking she read more into it than he intended, he backpedals it some.  “I mean, I just don’t like knowing a mission failed if I could’ve changed the outcome.”

“Mmm, yeah, of course,” Dawn mutters.  She still looks a little unsure on his meaning.  “I, umm.  I was planning on heading north.  You were going east, right?” 

“Yes, I was.  Look, is it that hard to think people could care about your welfare?  Al cares.”

She frowns, looking away.  “I know.”

“He’s doing alright, by the way.”  She doesn’t reply, just keeps her face turned away.  “Just come back with me to Headquarters, then you can decide the next step, hmm?”

Dawn looks at him.  “And if I leave again?”

“Would it work if I asked you to stay?  It’d make Glory happier if you did.”

Dawn surprises him by laughing.  “Glory?”

“Yep.  She was broken up when she heard you left the safe house.”

Dawn smiles.  “Alright, but only because it matters to Glory.”

“Good.  I'm sure she'll be over the moon to hear the news.”

Shaking her head, Dawn starts down the road with Deacon next to her. 


	5. Joining The Railroad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn decides to follow Deacon back to Headquarters, revealing more about her cybernetics to him along the way.   
> After meeting Desdemona, Dawn thinks that maybe sharing so much with Deacon isn't the best idea.
> 
>  
> 
> **************************************************

“So…  before we get to Headquarters, I should warn you that Dez will ask all the questions I want to ask, but she might actually push for answers.  Care to run some of those answers by me first?  Just so we have our stories straight.”

Dawn shoots him a wary look out of the corner of her eye.  “What kind of questions?”

“Oh, you know… the basics.  Where were you before you joined up with Al?  How’d you come by the cybernetics?  And what have you been up to these past few months?  The basics.”

“Mmm.  Dez asks a lot.”

“Yes, she does, but knowledge helps keep us alive.  So, care to impart me with some of that knowledge?”

He watches her as they walk.  He can see she’s deciding whether he’s worthy of any of her secrets.  Her expressions go from a frown, to sadness, to a blank look, and back again.  Deacon listens to the sounds of the night as he waits.

Her voice is soft, and neutral, but he thinks there’s pain behind it all.  “I don’t want to answer her questions.  Is it ok to forget that stuff?  Just be?”

He decides to drop the playful banter, and be serious with her.  “Yeah, I get that.  Trying to forget is how I get thru the days, but… it never quite goes away does it?  A sound, a smell, and it’s back, usually in the form of a dream, or nightmare.  I’d like to say you can ‘just be’, but I haven’t reached that stage yet, so I don’t know.”

She stops, causing him to stop.  He looks around thinking she heard or saw an enemy.  Nothing puts him on alert though, so he turns to her.   Her eyes are downcast, and she looks tired.  He moves closer to her.  “Hey.  Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring you down.”

“No, it’s fine.”  Dawn sighs, and picks her head up.  Her eyes are sad, and yes, there’s pain there.  This time he’s sure of it.

“My arm is cybernetic too.”  She lifts up the sleeve on her left arm.

“Looks normal to me.”

She chuckles, and pulls the sleeve up higher.  Right below her elbow he sees a jagged line of scar tissue.  It circles her arm.  And now he notices something else; the skin color of her forearm doesn’t quite match the skin tone on the other side of the scar tissue, something he wouldn’t have seen in the dark if not for the shades Tinker made him.

He meets her gaze, and sees her lower her sleeve in his peripheral vision.  “So let me get this straight.  Right eye, right leg, left arm, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Care to share with the rest of the class how that happened?”

“Vault 98.”

He was not expecting that.  Sure he’d heard tales of how Vault-Tec experimented on the vaulties, but he thought most of those were just tales.

“I, uh.  Wow.  Ok.  I would’ve guessed The Institute or a clash with raiders which lead to Al fixing you up.”

“Can we just keep walking?”

“Sure thing.  I, umm…  Want to talk about it?”

Dawn shakes her head slightly.  “No,” she answers softly.  They continue down the road in silence.

***********

 

“Nice to meet you, Dawn,” Desdemona says, extending a hand.  Dawn tentatively shakes it, but doesn’t return the greeting.

Dez pretends not to notice.  “So Deacon found you?  Good.  We’ll get word to Al.  He was worried something had happened to you.”

“How is he?” Dawn asks.

“Good.”

“No, I mean the situation with the synths.”

Dez smiles.  She likes Dawn’s straight-to-the-point attitude.  “Also, good.  There’s been no new activity in the area.  Hopefully whatever they were looking for they decided was somewhere else, but we’ll keep an agent on the ground for now.”

“Thank-you.”

“Of course.  Now onto other business.  We’ve recruited P.A.M. into The Railroad.  Her calculations have proven quite useful.  She is still at the safe house Glory and Deacon took you too, but we might use her elsewhere in the future.  Are you also looking to work for The Railroad?”

Deacon jumps in before Dawn can answer.  “She can handle herself out there.  Took out a couple of raiders for me.”

“Yeah?”  She looks at Deacon.  “You know I expect a full report, right?  How about you start it now, while I talk with Dawn.”

“I can take a hint,” Deacon says, but before he walks off, he leans in and whispers conspiratorially to Dawn.  “Watch out for her.”

“Oh?  Is she handsy like Glory?” Dawn counters.

Deacon straightens up laughing.  “No, good one, but no.  Just keep your guard up.”  He winks at Desdemona and saunters off.

Dez shakes her head.  “You **do** know that one’s a liar, right?  You can’t trust much that comes out of his mouth.”

“Then how do you know his reports are true?” Dawn questions.

“His intel is good, though he tends to exaggerate on certain things.  Two raiders was it?”  Dawn nods.  “I’m surprised he didn’t say 10, or change it to Super Mutants.  His lies don’t make him a bad agent, in fact they make him a damn good one.  He manages to get into places some of the others can’t gain access too.  And in case you didn’t notice, he’s very charismatic.  He can get secrets out of people they wouldn’t even tell their mothers.”

Dawn groans internally.  She’d be wise to remember Dez’s warning the next time she felt like telling Deacon anything.  She’d like her history to stay just that; history.  She’s not who she used to be; who they made her be.

***********

 

Of course, Dawn doesn’t really have to worry about telling Deacon any of her secrets.  She doesn’t interact with him much over the next few weeks. 

Dawn decides to stay with The Railroad for now, and Desdemona agrees to take her on, on a trial basis only.  She uses her mostly to help secure routes, and pick up the occasional dead drops.  Deacon, on the other hand, is kept busy securing intel, and following up on leads.

On one of his infrequent stops to Headquarters, Dez calls him over.

“How’s it going with the follow-up on that guy in Goodneighbor?  Anyone able to verify that he’s a synth?”

Deacon yawns.  “Uh, no, not really.  He seems like a normal guy so far.  I tailed him for a few days.  He’s pretty boring.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not a synth.”

“Yeah, but he’s not in danger, and he’s not a threat, so there’s that.  If there’s nothing else, I think I’m going to hit the hay.”

“Sure, just wanted to let you know how our temporary recruit is doing.  I already filled Glory in on the details.”

“Ok.  How’s she doing?” Deacon replies casually.

“Surprisingly well.  She takes orders almost without question, uses up very little supplies, and manages to do the job in record time.  If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was a synth.”

“So… taking full advantage of her, and abusing your power I see,” Deacon jests, with a hint of accusation.

“She hasn’t complained, and she hasn’t gotten sloppy.  Seems to me, she’s doing just fine.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but that one’s not really much of a talker.  She won’t say anything unless you ask her straight on.”  His tone taking on a more serious edge.

“When she gets back, I’ll see to it that she’s rested.  Alright?”

“Yes,” Deacon mutters, and walks away to find a mattress to lay on for a few hours.

 


	6. A Much Needed Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn receives some much needed downtime thanks to Deacon.  
> And there's a little bit of friction with Desdemona.
> 
>  
> 
> ***********************************************************

When Dawn comes back to Headquarters, Dez stays true to her word, and gives her some much needed time off.  However, this doesn’t mean that Dawn just sits around.  Tinker Tom manages to rope her into helping him work out a few kinks on his latest project.  She agrees as long as she isn’t Tinker’s latest project.

“I’m not going to lie.  Those cybernetic implants of yours are often on my mind.  I’d love to find out how they work, and if they can be improved on.”

Dawn backs up a pace, and glares at him. 

Tinker throws up his hands, “I know that look.  I won’t press, but if you ever change your mind, you let me know.”  He chuckles, showing her that they’re still friends, “No harm meant.”

She relaxes some, and steps back over.  “Good,” Tinker smiles.  “Now if you could just hold this while I solder that, we should be in business.”

**********

 

As Dawn heads to one of the mattresses strewn around Headquarters, Deacon stops her.

“It’s nice to see Tinker Tom has a new test subject to help him.”  Dawn’s expression turns from pleasant to hostile in the blink of an eye.  She moves to walk past Deacon, eyes forward, ignoring him.

“Hey, was it something I said?” he jokes.

“Yes,” she replies tartly.

He stops short, replaying the words he said in his mind.  _Shit_ , he groans, thinking about how she might have gotten her cybernetics.  He doesn’t imagine it was pleasant, if that’s her response.

He catches up with her as she rounds a corner out of sight.  “Dawn, I’m sorry.  Sometimes I talk before I think.”

She turns to him, studying his demeanor.  “How do I know you’re sincere?  Dez says I’m not to trust you.”  Despite her words, she does trust him, she’s just uncertain if she should.

This time Deacon groans out loud.  “Guessing it’s more than Desdemona, and the rumor mill’s been busy?”  She nods.  “Yeah, well, I’d prefer to leave the latest gossip and fashion tips for the others,” he comments.

Dawn chuckles at his reply.

“So… are we good?”  He studies her.  She still looks uncertain, but no longer angry.  “Ok.  What if I sweeten the deal, and let you in on a secret?”

“Okay,” she says hesitantly.

“Not to toot my own horn, but I’m the reason for your recent downtime.”

“What do you mean?”

“About how Dez had you running all over The Commonwealth trying to prove your worth.  I was just looking out for our newest asset.  Thought you could use a break.”  He waits for her thanks, but instead receives a troubled frown.

“What’s with that look?” he asks.

“Dez ordered all of those missions?  It wasn’t someone above her?”

“Who’s above her?”

Dawn snorts, “No one I guess.”  He lets her stay quiet for a moment.  She looks irritated again, but at least this time it’s not directed at him.

“Hey,” Deacon says.  Dawn meets his gaze.  “Enough with the sour face, huh?”  She goes to a more neutral expression.  “Better,” he comments, “but not quite there.  I still didn’t get my thank-you.  This is the closest you’ll get to a vacation working for us.”

“And if I don’t want to work for The Railroad?” she asks, still a little miffed.

Deacon breaks into a wide grin.  “Oh no, we are not going down that road again.”  He claps a hand on her shoulder, and she laughs at him.  “As of today, you’re no longer an honorary member, but a full-fledged agent.”

“Can you do that?”

“Who’s going to stop me?”  Dawn gives him a smile, and a shake of her head.  “Now, get out of here,” Deacon says.  “Go get some rest.”

She chuckles a little.  “Alright.”

Deacon watches her walk off, his smile slipping off of his face.  He’s not a fan of confrontation, but that doesn’t mean he shies away from it either.  _Time to have another talk with the head honcho_ , he sighs.

***********

 

He leans against a nearby wall, while Dez stands there smoking a cigarette.  They talk in serious, but hushed tones.

“Do you want me to defend my actions?  Is that why you’re here?  Her knight in shining armor?” she asks sardonically.

“That’s not what this is.  You lead her to believe that the orders you gave her were out of your control.”  He points out.  “But **you** were the one running her ragged.”

“I gave her a break like you asked.  What else are you demanding on her behalf?” Desdemona retorts.

Deacon scoffs.  “For someone warning Dawn to be careful around me since I tend to stretch the truth, it seems to be a ‘pot calling the kettle black’ situation.”

Dez lets out a wry chuckle.  “That’s rich coming from you.  ‘Stretching the truth’ you say?  And what did she do, run to you to tattle on me?”

Deacon crosses his arms.  “Nice try.  You know that’s not what happened.”

“Do I?”  She puts out her cigarette.  “Look.  I’m not here to be her friend.  We have a mission to do, and from I’ve seen, she has enough friends.”  She levels a gaze at Deacon.

“Yeah, she has some friends.  Doesn’t mean you can’t be one, Dez.”

“I’ll leave that task to you and the others.”

Deacon pushes off the wall.  “Fine.  But I will call you out, if you continue to treat her the way you do.”

“Fair enough,” Dez concedes.  They look at each other for a moment, silently agreeing that this disagreement is done.

Deacon starts to walk away, then turns around, his laid-back personality back in place.  “Oh, and I made her a full member today.”

“Of course you did,” Desdemona comments, with a small smile.

**********


	7. Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter showing a relaxed moment at Headquarters.
> 
>  
> 
> *********************************************

The next few months fall into a routine for Dawn.  She goes out on scouting missions: sometimes it’s with Glory, sometimes Deacon, and just as often it’s neither or both.  While that part varies, it somehow manages to stay the same.

When she gets back, she hangs out for a few days helping Tinker Tom, and relaxing.  Then it’s back out again. 

Doctor Carrington tries, unsuccessfully, to get Dawn to help him out too, but she doesn’t trust him that much.  Perhaps if he didn’t wear a lab coat, she might reconsider.  Tinker Tom’s a different story; with him she’s sure he’ll keep his word and admire her cybernetics from afar, plus he’s so easy-going and friendly, it’d be hard for Dawn to not like him.

While Dawn remains fairly quiet and keeps to herself, she does relax around a few choice people.  Desdemona is not one of them; Dawn remains indifferent to her.  To her, actions speak louder than words.  Deacon might be less than honest, but he treats her nicely.  Dez, meanwhile, comes across as someone who would sell her own mother if the price was right.    

Part of it is the dishonesty she’s already shown Dawn.  Part of it is the way she barks orders; it reminds Dawn of the Vault scientists she’d rather forget.  The one good thing is that at least Desdemona lets her be.  Their interactions are limited to Dez giving orders, giving kudos on jobs well done, and letting her know when meals are served.

No one seems to mind, except for Tinker Tom and Deacon, that Dawn sits away from the group.  Those two always try to include her, or at least spend some part of mealtime sitting by her.  Only Deacon will let her sit in relative silence.  Tinker Tom somehow manages to find a million different things to say.  He doesn’t even mind that she doesn’t contribute much to the conversation, which usually brings a smile to her face, as he fills in her half.

Today Deacon is hanging out with her by the wall.  They listen to the conversations around them, but neither say much.

Deacon finishes his food first.  “You want seconds, cuz I’m getting up?”

“No, thank-you.”

“Your loss,” he shrugs. 

He returns with half his plate filled and flops down next to her on the worn couch.

“You know what I like about you, Dawn?” he says through a mouthful of food.

She chuckles.  “Everything?”

Deacon returns her smile.  “Noooo,” he replies.  “It’s the fact that you’re quiet… most of the time.”

She frowns at him, feeling a little insulted.  He sees her face, and clarifies.  “It’s a good thing.  You wouldn’t want your enemy knowing where you are.  In our line of work, being quiet is beneficial.”

She thinks on it for a second.  “Oh, so then we balance each other out?”

Her comment surprises him.  “Did you just make a joke at my expense?”  Deacon tries to act hurt.

“Yeah, she did,” Glory says, standing nearby.  “She called you loud.  She’s not wrong you know.”

“Hardy har har,” Deacon snarks, but he smiles at Dawn.  “Good one.”

“Next time,” Glory adds, “just come out and say it.  We all do.”

Deacon throws a sweet roll at her, but Glory dodges it laughing.  It lands on the floor by another agent.

“Hey!” Deacon calls.  “Can you toss that back over here?”

“You’re not going to eat that, are you?” Dawn asks wrinkling her nose.

“You make a decent argument, but yes; yes I am.”


	8. The Doc Is In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Dawn's first trip to Goodneighbor, and her first meeting with Doctor Amari.  
> The introduction to the doc goes less than stellar, but Dawn finds a new place in the Commonwealth to spend her time. 
> 
>  
> 
> ******************************************************************

“Deacon!  Dawn!” Desdemona yells.  They both wander over from different parts of the room.  “I have a mission for you.  We have a synth that needs to be moved a.s.a.p.  Get ‘em over to Doc Amari.” 

Dawn looks over to Deacon unsure.  “Who’s Doc Amari?”

He smiles at her.  “She helps out.  It’s best if you just meet her and see what she does.  Less explaining on my part.”

Dawn scrunches up her face at Deacon’s reply, which also helps hide her nervousness.  _Does anyone like seeing a doctor?_ she wonders.

Dez hands a slip of paper to Deacon.  “Here.  That’s the address for the pick-up.  Try to get there quickly.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Deacon quips.

“Something like that,” Desdemona replies.  “Once you secure the synth, getting to Goodneighbor isn’t as much of a rush.  That doesn’t mean that you should take your time, though.”

“You got it boss.”  Deacon mock salutes Dez, who scoffs at him. 

“Just get going,” she says.

**********

 

“Ah, another glorious day in the Commonwealth.”  Deacon takes a deep breath, which he immediately regrets.  He starts coughing, “oh, yeah, that’s quite a lot of smells so early in the morning.”  His moves his shades to wipe at his eyes.

Dawn laughs at him.  He glares at her, and she laughs harder.  Hands on her knees. 

“I hope you soil that blue suit of yours.  It’ll serve you right,” he retorts.

Her laughter peters out.  “Mean.  This suit is the most colorful thing in this wasteland.”  She looks mock-hurt.

“True, but you’re not very inconspicuous in it.”

She sneers at him, and they keep walking.

"What do you have against my vault suit?" she asks.

"I just told you.  You stand out too much."

"Jealous?" she teases.

"Maybe."

The synth they’re escorting watches their banter with unease, not sure what to make of its new surroundings, and its temporary companions.

“Are we close to our destination?” it asks.

“Dawn?” Deacon prods her.

She rolls her eyes at him.  “You know where we are.”

“Yes, but you can tell us how many feet are left.”

She sighs, and uses her cybernetic eye.  “Says 78 feet.”

“There you go.  We’re practically on Goodneighbor’s doorstep,” he reassures the synth.

Dawn rolls her eyes again.

They round a corner seeing Goodneighbor’s neon sign is on, but it lights nothing since the sun is up.  Dawn walks ahead and pushes open the gate.  Her eyes widen as she takes in the scene in front of her.  Deacon gently shoves her and the synth past the gate.

“Is it safe here?” the synth asks.

Deacon offers a warm smile, and lays a hand on the synth’s shoulder.  “The mayor turns a blind eye to our… activities.   Makes Goodneighbor a great place to lay low.  We’ll be safe here.”

“Can I get a tour when we’re done?” Dawn asks, looking around.

“Guessing it’s your first time here?”  Dawn nods.  “Well, then, no problemo, but first let’s get over to the Doc’s.”

***********

 

“Do you **have** to erase their memories?” Dawn questions.  She clearly looks unhappy with the idea.

“No, but it’s preferable,” Doctor Amari informs her.

“Why?” she demands.

The doctor looks to Deacon, who only shrugs, and continues picking up and inspecting various objects around the room.

The doctor sighs.  “As I **told** you, and as I’m sure Desdemona **told** you, it’s best if we erase their memories, and give them false ones.  Then no one knows they’re a synth, and they can, most likely, lead ordinary lives without The Institute finding them.”

“No,” Dawn replies annoyed.  “No one told me you erased their memories, nor why you do it.”  She shoots Deacon a scathing look, but he ignores her too.  She turns her attention back to the doctor.  “If they keep their memories, they’ll remember why they left The Institute.  Then they can help other synths adjust, and still live ordinary lives.  **I do**.”

Doc Amari raises her eyebrows, “ **Are** you a synth?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”  She glares off to the side, at no one in particular.  She’s not happy about this whole situation.  _Damn Deacon and Dez for making me come here._

Deacon sighs and moves by Dawn, draping an arm over her shoulders.  “Our friend here is from a vault, and she had a rough time there.  She doesn’t say anything about it, but you can tell.”

Dawn shakes his arm off of her, and stares at him, eyes narrowed.  He just shrugs again, letting her know she’s not getting to him.

“Perhaps you’d be happier with your memories erased?” the doc suggests.

Dawn turns her hardened look onto Doctor Amari.  “ **No** ,” she snips.

The doc holds her hands up, “No need to bite my head off.  I’m just trying to help here.”

Deacon can see that her agitation is increasing, so he moves in front of her, blocking her view of the doc.

“Hi.  Remember me?” he jokes.  “We’re not here for you, we’re here for our friend,” he says gesturing to the synth.

Dawn glares at him, an argument on her lips, but Deacon cuts her off.  “Let’s take a breather, huh?  Nothing will happen while we step out of the room for a minute, right doc?” he asks, shooting the question over his shoulder so he can keep his eyes on Dawn.

“Right,” she replies wearily.

Dawn relaxes a little bit, allowing Deacon to steer her into the stairwell.  She keeps her voice low, “It’s not right, Deacon,” she tries again.

“Alright, tell me about it.”

Her jaw clenches.  “I’m not talking about myself,” she warns.

“Fair enough.  Let’s talk about the doc and her procedure.”  He watches her.  She’s still very tense, but seems to be calming down some.

Taking a breath and letting it out, Dawn attempts to get her point across again.  “Without their memories, how do they know who to avoid?  How do we know they won’t end up back with The Institute?  Do we keep tabs on all the synths we help?  Where they end up?  How they’re doing?”  Her eyes are pleading.  “We can’t just let them go out there not knowing why they risked leaving in the first place.”

Deacon places a hand on her arm, rubbing it in a reassuring gesture.  “Alright.  I’ll talk to XJ-523 and the doc, unless you want to.”

“No, thank-you,” she says shaking her head sadly, all fight gone now.

“If you're alright, let’s head back in, hmm?”

They go back into Doctor Amari’s room.  Dawn keeps quiet, and moves over to the couch, where she plops down, arms crossed.

The doctor looks to Deacon.  “Do you want me to proceed?”

Deacon glances over to Dawn, whose body language looks mad, but whose face is devoid of emotion.  _It’s like she’s turned herself off.  Creepy._

“Why don’t we let XJ-523 decide for themselves,” he suggests, which earns him a small, but relieved smile from Dawn.

**********

 

Dawn seems more like herself once they exit the Memory Den.  Deacon nudges her.  “XJ’s considered what you said.  That’s all you can hope for.”

She gives him a half smile.  “I guess.”

“Come on.  I promised you a tour.”  He starts wandering off without her.  “That is the Memory Den,” he says pointing over her head.  “And that is Hotel Rexford.  The people in there are nice, but they hover too much.  I don’t think they’re used to travelers who aren’t there to sleep off a high.”

Dawn looks to where Deacon’s pointing now.  She smiles a little, getting into his tour guide persona.  She shuffles over to him.

“Feeling a little better?” he inquires.

“Maybe,” she mumbles.

“Good.  Next on our stop… The Third Rail.  I’ll even buy you a drink.”

She genuinely smiles at that.  “Deal.”


	9. Everyone's Welcome in Goodneighbor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn gets banned from The Memory Den, but is still a welcome fixture in Goodneighbor.  
> Deacon gets a another clue about her past. 
> 
>  
> 
> *************************************************************

“Word is that you’re off delivering synths to Goodneighbor,” Glory comments.

“Why?” Dawn asks.

Glory gives her a knowing smile.  “Don’t worry, no one else knows.  I just happened to be the one that delivered the letter to Dez asking you not to come anymore.”

Dawn frowns.  “Probably for the best,” she mutters.

“Want to let me in on what happened?” 

“I just didn’t agree with Doctor Amari’s… procedure.”

“Oh?” Glory says with an eyebrow raised.

Dawn looks her.  “Did you get your memory wiped too?”

“Yeah.  We all do,” Glory answers with a shrug.

“Doesn’t it make you wonder what you lost?  You know, the good with the bad?”  Dawn’s expression is thoughtful.

Glory snorts, “Yeah, sometimes, but I guess if I left, I had good reason.”

Dawn nods, “I get that.”

“The doc could wipe your’s too, if you wanted,” Glory suggests.

Dawn straightens up some, feeling defensive.  “The doctor thought so, too.  I think I’ll pass.”

“Just a thought.  It might not be so bad, you know?”  Glory walks off nonchalantly. 

Dawn watches her go, bristling at the idea of seeing Doctor Amari again.  She understands the appeal, but… would it be worth it to lose the good memories too?  She doesn’t think so… at least not most days.

**********

 

Being banned from The Memory Den does little to deter Dawn from seeking out Goodneighbor.  She manages to sneak there a few times over the next month or so.  She doesn’t like fighting past Raiders and Super Mutants, but she likes the atmosphere the small town provides.  No one questions her, and she can walk around without being judged.

It’s not until her third trip there that Dawn formally meets Daisy and KL-E-O.  She likes them both immediately.  Daisy and her swap pre-war memories, and KL-E-O reminds her of P.A.M. but saucier.  She likes the attitude.

“You’re always welcomed back here,” Daisy reminds her every time she leaves.

“I know,” Dawn beams a smile at her.  “Thank-you.”

On her sixth trip to Goodneighbor, Deacon is in tow.  He hasn’t been back there with Dawn since introducing her to the place.

As soon as they walk thru the gates, her face lights up.  Deacon sees that Dawn looks relaxed; like she belongs here, and maybe she does.  Is it selfish of them to keep her with The Railroad, he wonders.  He shakes his thoughts away realizing that she’s walked off towards the two stores in front of them.

He follows her over.  She waves a “hello” to Daisy, but continues over to KL-E-O’s.  Before she goes in, she stops and turns to Deacon.  “Do you have anything you need to sell?”

“What’s mine is yours,” he replies.  Dawn smiles at him, and takes a few things off his hands, heading into Kill or Be Killed.

Daisy manages to get Deacon’s attention, and calls him over.

“Hope she plans on stopping in later.”

“Um, she’s selling some things next door,” he replies awkwardly.

Daisy dismisses the concern.  “I don’t mean for that.  She’s good about selling her stuff here every other time.”

“How often does she come here?” Deacon asks, perplexed.  “I know some of the missions we’ve sent her on, and most don’t come this way.”

Daisy smiles at him.  “Just have her stop by later.  Thanks, sweetie.”

“Sure thing,” he agrees, curious to know more about Dawn’s trips into Goodneighbor.

He walks next door just as Dawn finishes up her transaction with the assaultatron.

“Make sure you come back when you need a real weapon, honey.  I’m always stocked with firepower,” KL-E-O purrs.

“I will.  Thanks.”  Dawn turns so quickly that she nearly smacks into Deacon.  He grabs her by the arms as she comes to an abrupt halt.  She looks at him with a shy smile.  “Sorry.  That was nearly a head-on collision.”

Deacon lets go of her, and they walk back outside.  He frowns slightly at her phrase.  “Head-on collision?”

She glances at him, suddenly on edge.  “Yes,” she drags out.  “Would a ‘bad accident’ work better?”

He picks his words carefully, seeing that she’s wary.  “Did you use to drive?”  He tries to sound casual about it.

She doesn’t say anything as they turn the corner.  Her gait slows as they come up to the entrance of The Third Rail.  She seems to be looking at something that isn’t there.  Deacon gives her time.  He’s always worried that if he pushes her, she’ll clam up and never tell him another thing.  He likes that she’s opened up to him the little that she has, and he doesn’t want to do anything to damage that.  Not many people put their trust in him like she does, especially knowing his fondness for lying.

She stands there looking and not looking at the entrance.  Finally her eyes clear, and she softly speaks up.  “Did you know that this used to be a subway tunnel?  No risk of a head-on collision down there,” she chuckles.  “The trains ran on different tracks.”  She looks at Deacon.  “That doesn’t mean there weren’t accidents, just not the same kind as the ones on the road.”  She goes quiet again.

“Can I take that as a yes?”  His voice is soft and low.  She doesn’t answer him.

Deacon counts his heartbeats, and gets to 17 when she speaks again.  She seems worn-down; a complete turn-around from when they first entered Goodneighbor.  “Buy a girl a drink?”

“I can do that.”  He moves to head in, but she doesn’t come.  He goes back to her and puts his hand on her lower back, guiding her into the building.  By the time they pass Ham, her melancholy demeanor has mostly evaporated, and she’s moving on her own.

“So.. if we’re not going to talk about whatever that was outside, can we talk about Daisy?”

Dawn looks at him, confused.  “What about Daisy?”

“She said to stop by later.  Seems you come here often?”  He raises an eyebrow at her as they walk down the stairs.

Just like Daisy, Dawn chooses to answer him with a smile, which really isn’t an answer at all.  He decides to drop it for now.  He’ll just mentally add it to the long list of things he needs to figure out about her.

As they come off the stairs, Deacon leans in towards her a little.  “Um…  can I borrow some caps?”

“What?  Really?”

He laughs at her surprised expression.  “No.  I said it was my treat, remember?  Sit here.”  He pushes her down into a chair near a small stage and heads over to the bar.

“Back again?” comes a gruff voice behind Dawn.  She turns around to see a ghoul sitting at the next table in old patriotic clothes.  She knows who he is, but hasn’t yet talked to him.

“Yes,” she replies.  She looks him over, noticing the similarities and differences between him, and Ham and Daisy.

“Gonna stay for the show this time?”  He nods towards the stage.  Dawn turns to look, but there’s no one there right now.  She looks back at the mayor.

“Folks come from all around to see Magnolia.  She’s got quite a voice,” he remarks. 

“And looks too,” Deacon adds, setting their drinks down.  “Mayor Hancock,” he greets the other man, taking a seat next to Dawn.

Hancock chuckles.  “Seems your girlfriend doesn’t like you commenting on other people’s physiques,” he points out.

Deacon looks over to see a slightly irritated look on Dawn’s face; her cheeks red.  “Jealousy?” he snickers.  “Nope, she usually looks like that; mad and unhappy.”  He grins at her, and she glares at him, but a smile starts to form as he slowly nudges her drink towards her.

“I’ve heard people talk about Magnolia.  Does she know a lot of songs?” Dawn asks before taking a sip.

“She knows a fair amount.  Why?  You want to request something?  I’ll stop her when she gets here, if you want,” Hancock offers.

“No, but if I get her the words, would she sing something… new?”

Deacon watches the exchange, wondering what kind of song Dawn could have in mind.  He’s sure that whatever it is, he’d love to hear it.

Hancock studies the woman in front of him.  He leans forward, elbows on his legs, hands steepled in front of his face.  “You have some interesting eyes,” he states after a moment.  “Is there a story behind those?”

Dawn softly shakes her head.  “Not one I’ll share.”  She pauses.  “Your eyes are equally interesting,” she admits. 

He smiles, but doesn’t comment.  She sits patiently while he continues his evaluation.  Deacon finds his grip on his glass tightening.  He doesn’t care for the way the two of them are looking at each other, and he doesn’t want to explore why it bothers him.

Finally, the tension breaks, and Hancock sits back in his chair, a smirk on his face.  “I think that can be arranged.  Get me the sheet music, and I’ll see to it that you get to present it to Magnolia.”

Dawn’s face lights up again.  “Thank-you.”

“Of course.  You enjoy yourself in Goodneighbor, Hubflower,” Hancock says as the lights dim a little. 

Dawn’s cheeks redden again, this time at the nickname.  She turns back around as a voluptuous woman takes the stage. 

Deacon leans in, his voice low and wounded, “How come when he says it, you go all gooey, but when I suggested calling you ‘Hubflower’ you laughed?”

She turns and regards him.  He’s so close.  Her breath is coming in a little shallower; a little quicker.  “Uh… I..” she clears her throat as Magnolia does a few warm up exercises.  “I **didn’t** laugh, Deacon,” she insists.

He leans back a bit.  His eyes meeting hers.  Her pupils seem wider than before.  _It’s probably due to the low light_ , he thinks.  “You did laugh,” he repeats, letting a little more hurt into his tone.

“No, Glory laughed.  I laughed at the other one.”

“Grease Monkey?”

She giggles, a big grin breaking out.  “Yes.  That one.”  Her smile fades a bit, but the way she looks at him, is sort of… dreamy, he thinks. 

“I liked it when you called me ‘Hubflower’,” she whispers, looking away, her face quite red.

Before he can think to say anything else, Hancock taps him on the shoulder.  “Do you think you could keep it down, or take it outside?  Show’s starting.”

“Sure thing,” Deacon replies, facing the stage.  He picks up his drink and tries to focus on the music.  It’s hard, though, when his mind wants to keep thinking about the person next to him instead. 

 


	10. Letting Her Down Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacon decides to end things with Dawn before they can begin.   
> Glory decides to ask more about Dawn's vault suit, but doesn't get the answer she expected.
> 
>  
> 
> ***************************************************************************

On the way back to Headquarters, Deacon decides to clear the air.  They haven’t really said anything for a while, though, which makes him feel a little uncertain on how to start.

“So, uh, what’d you and Daisy talk about?”

“She got a new book.  Wanted to know if I’d read it yet.”

“Had you?”

“Yes.”

“New, huh?  How’d she get her hands on a new book?”

Dawn glances at him.  “ ‘New’ doesn’t always mean new, right?”

“No?  Guess I’ve been using that word wrong then.”

They share a small chuckle.

“It’s newly acquired,” Dawn quips.

“Ah, yes.  And not to throw another wrench into your story, but when did you read it?  I’ve never seen you even hold a book,” he tries to recall.

“I read.”

“Do you?”

“It’s been a while.”

“What book is it?  Maybe it’s something I’ve heard of.”

“It was a book by Charles Dickens.”

“That’s all you talked about?”

Dawn shrugs.  “She did ask if there was a book she should keep an eye out for.  I asked her for ‘Rebecca’; it was a favorite of mine.”

“I think that’s the most words you said to me at once,” Deacon comments.

Dawn just makes a face at him, and they lull into silence again.

_This is harder than I thought_ , Deacon thinks.  

After a few blocks, he tries again.  “Um, sooo... back at The Third Rail…”

Dawn gives him a look of mild curiosity, but doesn’t say anything, just lets him flail.

“Anyways… the Hubflower thing.. I think I’ll just stick to calling you ‘Dawn’.  That’s cool, right?”  He sneaks a few nervous glances at her, unsure of her reaction.  _Does she even get the point I’m trying to make?_

“Ok.”

He lets out a sigh, and waits a bit.  “You get what I’m trying to say, right?”

“Yes.”

_Ugh!_ he screams in his head.  “Okay.  Look, I’m going to need more confirmation here.  You don’t provide a lot of feedback.  No emotion in your voice, no look crossing your face.  I can’t even read your eyes while we’re walking next to each other.”

Dawn abruptly stops walking.  Deacon falters, but stops too.  “I didn’t mean for us to stop and just stand here,” he says glancing around.  “Being out in the open like this is a sniper’s dream.”

She looks at him, not moving.  “I can’t read your eyes, either.  You nearly always have those glasses on,” she informs him.

He takes them off, hanging them off the front of his shirt.  “Better?”

She grins at him.  “Yes.”

“Yeah, ok, good.”  Her smile is making him nervous again.  He needs to get this over with.  “Ok.  Dawn.  Uh… you’re nice.  I like you.  As a friend, you understand.  And… Hancock… well he seemed into you… not that you should pursue that.  He’s nice… too… but he’s also ruthless.  And chems..  you don’t want to be involved in that.  Nor me.  You don’t want to be involved in that either.  You get that?  I’m talking in complete sentences, right?”  He watches her.  Her blue eyes seem calm, but he doesn’t think his eyes look even close to that right now.

“I understand, Deacon,” she assures him.

“You sure?  I have my doubts.”

“You’re not into me.  It’s fine.  Shall we continue, now?”  She glances down the road, seemingly ready to go, but not trying to get away from him.

He calms down a little.  “Yeah.  I hope I didn’t break your heart.”

She laughs.  A genuine laugh that makes him feel better, even though it’s directed at him.

“Sorry.  I… I’ll be ok,” she chuckles.  “I’ll just have to learn to move on,” she says, throwing a large grin at him.  Her heart beats a little harder in her chest, but she doesn’t think he can tell.  _He likes me? Or did like me?_ she wonders.

He smiles back, further relaxing.  “Good.  Glad we got that out of the way,” he mutters.

They fall into a comfortable silence the rest of the way back.

*********

 

A few weeks pass before Glory, Deacon, and Dawn are all back at Headquarters together.  They’re enjoying a rare respite together.  Dawn found a deck of cards on a recent mission, and is teaching them to play “BS”; Deacon’s new favorite game.

After a few rounds, the deck gets set to the side, and they just sit there, relaxing; enjoying the fact that they don’t have anywhere to be, and for now, nothing is after them.

“I’ve been wondering something,” Glory starts.  Deacon and Dawn look over at her.  “It’s about that suit of yours, Dawn.”

“Hmm?” Dawn languidly replies.

“Well, from what I’ve seen and heard, you aren’t a big fan of the vault you came from, or any vault for that matter, so why wear the uniform?  It doesn’t make sense.”

Dawn furrows her brow, but doesn’t defend her actions.

“She has a point, though,” Deacon jumps in.  “I’ve pointed out, several times, that you stick out like a sore thumb.  Hard to hide if you’re bright blue in a barren landscape.”

Dawn playfully sneers at Deacon, but he just raises an eyebrow. 

She sits up some and sighs.  “I’ve worn it for… nearly 3 years now.  It almost feels like a second skin.”  She tugs at a part of it, then smoothes it back down. 

“So that’s it then?” Glory asks skeptically.  “You’ve worn it for this long, so keep wearing it?  That doesn’t seem like much of an answer.  We can get you other outfits, you know?  Tinker Tom has several on hand.”

“No, thank-you.”

“Really?  What about the fact that you don’t like the vault it represents?  Or is that just rumor?”  Glory waits for a reply.

“The suit’s lead lined for radiation protection, and I like the color,” Dawn adds with a shrug.  Both Deacon and Glory can see that Dawn’s eyes seem angry, and her tone is defensive, even if her demeanor seems nonchalant.

“So?  Practical and fashionable?  Of course,” Deacon jests, trying to defuse the situation.

“Alright, topic dropped.  It’s a nice suit, I just don’t get it,” Glory concedes, however, Dawn emotions are already frayed.

“Can’t I have something without assessing why I have it?  Does **this** have to define me!?  I’m more than this suit and what they did to me!”  Dawn abruptly stands up, and storms off.

“Sorry!” Glory calls after her.  She looks at Deacon.  “We all have baggage, I know.  I didn’t mean to upset her.”   Glory starts to get up.

Deacon sighs and stops her.  “I’ve got this.”  He follows after Dawn, but takes his time, giving her a few seconds.

“Hey,” he says when he’s by her.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“I yelled at Glory.”

“She says she’s sorry.”

Dawn looks downcast.  Deacon puts his hand under her chin, tilting her face up.  The anguish in her eyes takes his breath away for a moment, and he feels anger at the faceless people who hurt her.  He pulls her into a hug.  She’s stiff in his arms. “Not a hugger?”

“No.”

“Try?”

He waits a couple of heartbeats, ready to let her go, but she softens into his embrace.  He tightens his arms around her, resting his cheek against the top of her head.  She sighs into his chest, her head bent down.  She shifts a little, turning her head to the side, away from his face.  “I can hear your heartbeat,” she comments.

“Yeah?” he murmurs.

She lets out a soft chuckle.  “Your voice rumbles in my ear.”

He smiles, though she doesn’t know it. 

She sighs and tentatively wraps her arms around his ribcage.  They stand that way for a few minutes.  She’s quiet, but she’s usually quiet.  He’s pretty sure she’s crying though.   His chest feels damp and cold, but he doesn’t say anything, just continues to hold her tight.

She sniffles, and pulls back.  He reluctantly lets her go.  Her eyes are slightly red, and her cheeks are damp.   He glances down at his shirt.  Her eyes follow his.

“Oh, Deacon.  I’m sorry!”

He laughs.  “It needed to be washed anyways.  You saved me the pre-rinse cycle.”

She grins at him, and wipes at her face.  “Thank-you,” she whispers sincerely.

“Hey, that’s what friends are for.”

She frowns slightly, and starts to walk away.  “Yeah.  Uh, I’m going to apologize to Glory.”

He watches her go, not sure what caused that sudden change in attitude.

 


	11. Making Amends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn apologies for yelling at Glory, who let's her in on a not so secret secret.  
> This leads Dawn to actively avoiding Deacon, and the other agents.  
> Thankfully, her uncertainty is overridden by the fact that she misses him. 
> 
>  
> 
> ********************************************************************

“Hi Glory.”

“Hey, Dawn.”

Dawn hesitates, shifting under Glory’s gaze.  “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

Glory chuckles.  “I don’t think you’re doing this right.”

Dawn scowls, “I’m not apologizing correctly?”

“Sit.  Please.”  Dawn sits down, facing Glory.  “It’s not that you’re apologizing incorrectly.  It’s that you’re apologizing at all.  That should be my line.”

Dawn looks uncertain, but keeps silent.

“I am sorry, Dawn,” Glory offers.  “I shouldn’t have brought up The Vault knowing it was a touchy subject.”

Dawn remains impassive.

“Friends?”  Glory extends her hand, which Dawn promptly shakes.  “You ok?” she asks since Dawn still has a scowl on her face.

“Deacon said the same thing.”

“What?  He apologized?  For what?”

“No, he called us friends.”

A knowing smile spreads across Glory’s face, making Dawn wary.  “Mmm.  So, does it bother you that **we** think of you as a friend?  Or does it bother you that **Deacon** thinks of you as a friend?”

“I… I don’t know,” Dawn replies tentatively.

Glory nods.  “You know he’s taken with you, right?”

“No.”  Dawn fidgets slightly.  “He told me he’s not interested in me.”

Glory snorts, looking skeptical.  “He came out and said that to you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Dawn shakes her head, indicating that she won’t be answering that question.  Glory waits a bit anyways, then shrugs.

“Well, I don’t care what he told you.  I **do** know how he treats you, and how he talks about you.  He’s taken with you,” she states, self-assured.

Dawn considers what she said.  She hasn’t really thought of Deacon that way.  Sure he makes her heart flutter when he stands too close to her, but that’s just nerves, right?  And, yeah, he flirts with her, sometimes turning her cheeks red, but he flirts with everyone.  She shakes her head, scattering her thoughts.

“No, he’s right.  We’re just friends, Glory.  He treats everyone nicely.”

Glory chuckles, standing up.  “All I know is I’ve never seen him stand up to Dez as often as he stands up for you.  And that hug just now?  You know he’s not a hugger, right?”  She turns and saunters off, leaving Dawn alone with her thoughts.

**********

 

Dawn feels guilty, but rather than confront how she feels, she decides to distance herself from everyone.  She even finds herself asking Desdemona for extra missions, which sometimes means doing nothing but patrol duty.

She starts collecting blank paper when she finds it; binding it together with yarn and using it as a notebook.  One of the things she’s taken to scribbling down are old song lyrics.  She figures that once she has a full song written, she can take Mayor Hancock up on his offer, and have Magnolia sing it.

Otherwise, she just uses the sheets to write down odd thoughts and doodles.  It helps to pass the time, and clears her mind.

She ends up avoiding most of the other agents, including Deacon, for nearly a month.  At first he doesn’t seem to notice, since everyone comes and goes around Headquarters all the time, but then he starts to feel that it’s on purpose.

He tries to pin her down, but she always manages to slip away before they can spend any real time together.  He hears how much she’s been out lately, and decides Desdemona might be the issue, but then again, it might be him, which bothers him more than he’ll admit.

“Hey, Dez?”

“Yeah?” she replies, barely glancing up from her paperwork, a cigarette in her hand.

“Did you happen to say something to Dawn about me?” Deacon inquires.

“Hmm?  No, why?”

“Have you been overworking her again?”

Dez looks at him, feeling a little defensive.  “This time it’s all on her.  She’s been bugging me for things to do.”

Deacon frowns.  “Think it’s something I said?  I was hoping it wasn’t me.”

Desdemona raises and eyebrow, and puts out her cigarette.  “You think she’s avoiding you?  Why?”  She watches his reaction.  If Deacon’s had any relationships with fellow Railroaders he’s kept it pretty hush-hush.  She doesn’t think he’d come to her if this was a lover’s spat.  Dez decides to keep that thought to herself, for now.

“Maybe you stepped on her toes on some mission?  Took control when she was in charge?” she suggests.

Deacon frowns trying to think of what he could’ve done.  “I don’t think so.  If I could pin her down, I’d apologize.”

“If I see her, I’ll send her your way,” Desdemona offers.

“Thanks, Dez.”  Deacon wanders off, with a scowl on his face, trying to figure out what he could’ve done lately.

**********

 

Whenever she’s back at Headquarters, Dawn seeks out a quiet corner, away from everyone.  Thankfully, there are enough nooks and crannies available for her to mostly avoid detection.  She sits down, opening up her “notebook”.

She starts paging through it when she freezes, hearing Deacon’s voice.  She stays still, and hears him fade away.  She can’t keep hiding from him, it’s not right.  He’s supposed to be her friend.  She sighs, and decides to write some thoughts down.

 

_ “You keep coming back to that word, Deacon.” _

_ “What word?” he asks. _

_ “Friends.” _

_ “Aren’t we friends?” he asks. _

 

Dawn sighs, looking at what she wrote.  This irritated feeling has been slowly festering.  She doesn’t like it.  She tried ignoring it, and she tried ignoring him, but neither are working.  She really should talk to him, but the thought of doing that fills her with anxiety.

 

_ “Well?” he looks at her. _

_ “You use that word as a shield, or a weapon.  Either way I don’t like it.” _

_ “What do you want me to call you instead?” he asks. _

 

What does she want him to call her instead?  _Friend isn’t horrible, but is that all we are?_ she thinks.  ‘Family’ feels too strong of a word to her.  _Then what?_

 

_~~ “Hubflower” ~~ _

 

As soon as Dawn writes it down, she immediately crosses it out.  She folds the paper up, and tucks it into a pocket. 

He clearly said he wasn’t interested in her, and… is she interested in him?  She sighs, and glances up from the corner she hid herself away in.

From where she is, she can see a portion of the common area, but not much else.  No one’s paid any attention to her so far, expect for Tinker Tom, who only waved a “hello” before continuing on.

She’s felt moody lately; on edge.  It’s a lot of work avoiding someone when you never really know where they are; and Deacon likes to be everywhere, and in disguise, too.

Thankfully she has V.A.T.S to fall back on.  Dawn scans the common area just for something to do, and Deacon’s name pops up.  Her heart skips a beat, then starts a rapid rhythm.  She sees him talking to a couple of newbie agents.  _How did I not hear him this time?_ , she thinks, but notices that he’s too far from her right now.

She relaxes, and her breathing slows.  He’s busy, so there’s no threat of detection.  She studies him, and realizes that she’s missed his company these past few weeks.  She hasn’t really spent any time with him since the hug.

Glory walks past, then wanders back, having seen Dawn on the floor.  She follows her gaze before Dawn realizes she’s being watched.  “Don’t worry, he doesn’t know you’re here, but he is looking for you,” Glory states.

Dawn startles, her face turning red.  “I… uh.. he is?”  She falters.

“Yep.  What’s up with the papers?”

Dawn glances down, glad she tucked the one sheet away, and snaps her notebook closed.  “I was just writing.”

Glory leans against the wall, while Dawn stands up, looking guilty.  It doesn’t help her cause that she keeps looking towards Deacon.

Glory chuckles.  “You’ve got it bad, but I wouldn’t hang my hat on him, if I were you.”

Dawn furrows her eyebrows, “Why?  I thought you told me he was taken with me.  Those were your words.” she says accusingly.

Glory shrugs.  “Yeah, I know what I said, but I thought on it, and realized I wasn’t doing you a favor.  It won’t go anywhere, you know.”

“No, I don’t,” she snips.  Dawn doesn’t even know why she’s arguing with Glory.  She has no plans on asking Deacon out, or anything even remotely similar.

Glory straightens up, pushing off of the wall.  “Look, rumor is, he had a wife.  She died, but he hasn’t moved past it.  Who’s to say he ever will.”

All aggression drains out of Dawn.  “Oh,” she offers softly, “I didn’t know that.”  She looks back over to where Deacon is.  Her eyes are sad, and the air around her has turned melancholy.

Glory feels a little guilty for causing the sudden change in her friend.  “Hey, we all have a past, right?  Some of us just let it define us more than others.  Maybe you’ll be the one to help him past it, who knows?”

Dawn nods, turning to Glory.  “Perhaps ’friend’ isn’t so bad.  I just know that I don’t like avoiding him.”

“Then don’t.”

They both look towards the common room when they hear laughter.  Deacon is getting quite animated in the story he’s telling, and the agents around him seem very amused.  Dawn can’t help but smile at his antics, and wish she was over there so she could hear what he’s saying. 

Glory sees how quickly Dawn’s mood has changed again.  Her face seems lit up now.  “I think you could do better.  Deacon’s not the worse choice.  Just...” Dawn glances at her, waiting, “Just remember that there’s a good chance he’ll push you away if you try to get too close.  He does it to everyone.”

“I’ll keep that mind.”  With that, Dawn decides to face some of her fears, and heads over to the small crowd gathered around Deacon.


	12. Just Friends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn wants to make amends with Deacon, but isn't brave enough. Thankfully, he is.  
> Dez reminds Dawn to keep her relationships strictly platonic for the good of The Railroad.  
> Dawn's dreams, though, have a different idea.
> 
>  
> 
> ***************************

She doesn’t get too close, just stays on the edge of the crowd.  Of course he sees her, and shoots her a wink, but doesn’t call her out in any other way, for which she’s relieved.

She catches the end of the story, but thankfully it’s one she’s heard before so she knows the plot.  It still makes her laugh, though. 

As soon as he’s done, she tries to sneak away.  Coming over was all the bravery she had. 

Deacon doesn’t let her slip away unnoticed.  “Wait up, Dawn,” he calls.  She stops and turns back, but as fate would have it, he gets stopped by another agent, and it seems a little urgent.

Dawn shrugs, internally grateful for the additional reprieve, and saunters off, leaving Deacon to fend for himself.

She walks past Desdemona, deciding now is a good time to see if Tinker Tom needs any help.  She hasn’t seen too much of him either lately.

“Oh, hey, Dawn,” Dez beckons her.  Dawn goes over, and waits expectantly.

“Deacon was looking for you.  I think he went that way.  Talk to him,” Dez orders.

“I saw him,” she acknowledges, knowing that’s not quite what Desdemona asked her to do.

“Good.  You two work things out?  I can’t have him moping about.”  She watches Dawn’s reaction, wondering if maybe there is a relationship there.  If so, she should nip it in the bud now.

Dawn frowns slightly, but otherwise gives nothing away.  “Not yet.”  She continues to stand there.  She doesn’t think Desdemona is done with her yet, and she’s right. 

“Look,” Dez says, gesturing for Dawn to move closer.  “There’s no policy against agents pairing up, but…”  she drops her voice a bit, forcing Dawn to stand next to her.  Dez locks her eyes on Dawn’s trying to make sure her point hits home.  “it can be an **unnecessary** distraction.  One false move out there could be fatal.  Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

Dez studies the woman in front of her for a moment.  She nods.  “Good.  You’re both assets to this organization, but you understand that he’s more valuable to us than you are.  Not that you don’t do good work.”

Dawn’s eyes narrow at Desdemona, understanding the hidden threat there.  “We’re just friends,” Dawn grits out.

“Good.  Keep it that way, and things will continue running smoothly around here.”

**********

 

Dawn finds another place to tuck herself away in.  She’s fuming a bit from Dez’s veiled threat, and simply wants to take a step back for a moment.  She leans against the wall and closes her eyes.  She takes a few slow breathes, and puts her hands in her pockets.  She frowns slightly wondering what her hand is touching, when she remembers what she had written not less than an hour ago.

Dawn takes out the slip of paper, unfolds it and re-reads what she wrote.  Her eyes linger on the last line.  ‘ ~~ _Hubflower_ ’~~ it says.  She lightly touches the word, and sighs.  Footsteps alert her to someone nearby, so she quickly folds the paper, stuffing it into her pocket as Deacon approaches.

“What was that?” he asks pointedly.

Her face turns slightly red.  “Nothing,” she stammers.

“Ah, ‘the lady doth protest too much, methinks’” Deacon quotes.

She playfully sneers at him, clamming up.

“Alright.  Keep your secret.  I’ll just have to find out some other way,” he jests.

Dawn’s eyes widen; her mind thinking illicit thoughts.  Deacon misreads her expression, thinking it’s fear.  “That wasn’t an actual threat, you know?”

She shakes her head, trying to clear the images in her head.  “That’s not what I thought,” she denies, slightly upset that she’d have thoughts like that, here; now.

Deacon frowns.  “I won’t ask.  Look, I just wanted to apologize.”

“For?”

“For whatever it was I did.  ‘Let bygones be bygones’, and all that.”

“You didn’t do anything, Deacon.”

“No?  Then why the silent treatment.”  He watches her.  She tenses up.  Did he misunderstand?  _Maybe it’s something from her past that’s bothering her, and not me._

“Sorry,” she whispers, feeling guilty.  She doesn’t want to explain the why, which he seems to understand.

“We good, then?” 

Dawn looks at him.  He genuinely seems concerned.  She furrows her brows, sad that she had upset him.  “Yeah, Deacon.  We’re good.”  She gives him a small, but warm smile, and he smiles back.

“Terrific.  Now about that slip of paper you hid away.”

He pretends that he’s going to take it from her, but she ducks under his arm, laughing.

“Nope,” she says, and walks away.  He watches her go, feeling better than he has in days.

**********

 

Life at The Railroad goes back to normal.  Tinker asks Dawn to help him out when she’s around.   Doctor Carrington tries as well, to no avail, but at least they’re on friendly terms now.  Dawn has accepted that he isn’t a threat, but still refuses to offer him any of her time.

Dawn finds time to spend with Glory and Deacon, and even manages to sneak down to Goodneighbor once in a while to talk books with Daisy.

The only change really, is that Dawn finds herself having more frequent dreams about Deacon.  She’s had dreams about The Railroad members before.  When something is a part of your daily life, it’s hard not to have it sneak into your subconscious.  However, more and more, the dreams seem to revolve around a certain person rather than a mixed assortment of people.

Most of the dreams are pretty innocent.  She’s sitting around doing something mundane with Deacon, such as, playing cards or eating mirelurk stew.  Sometimes the dreams are little scary.  Those ones involve missions gone wrong.

The most recent one she had still upsets her a little.

They were running from a Deathclaw.  She could see a building in the distance and knew that if they could just get to it, they’d be safe.  However, it kept moving. 

She remembers spending most of the dream running.  When they finally made it to the building, Deacon shoved her inside, out of harm’s way, but the Deathclaw grabbed him at the last second.  She spun around just as she heard him grunt in pain, but woke up before she could help him.

She hates that dream, and is glad that she only had it the one time.  That dream and the others like it upset her.  It’s a real fear she has, of Deacon risking his life for her or one of the other agents, and her not being able to do anything for him.  She has no doubt that it could happen on a mission.  Deacon would sacrifice himself in reality, too.  It’s just the kind of person he is.

The other dreams she has, bother her too, but in an entirely different way.  Those ones, while pleasant, sometimes resurface when she’s around him, making her feel awkward and shy.  She’s worried that he can read it in her face, and that he knows what goes on in her head; which is a very real possibility, but one Deacon hasn’t made her aware of.   

The fact that Deacon has already shot her down, when she wasn’t even interested in him then, just elevates her fears more, so she tries to keep her emotions in check.  Dawn tries to remind herself that they’re just friends, and that, according to Glory, Deacon is still mourning the loss of his wife. 

Because she doesn’t wish to avoid him again, she does her best to steer her thoughts down other avenues, but it’s exhausting trying to control something she has little control over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *************************************************
> 
> For anyone wanting a peek into Dawn's other dreams of Deacon, I did wrote a fluff piece called "Dream Lover".


	13. Warning: No Lifeguard on Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Desdemona warns Dawn not to pursue a relationship with Deacon, she starts sending other agents with them.  
> This is their first recent mission together without 'a lifeguard on duty'.
> 
>  
> 
> ****************************************************

Dawn feels Dez’s eyes on her, even when she’s not at Headquarters.  The last few times that she’s sent Dawn and Deacon on a mission together, there’s been a chaperone.  Of course, it could be Dawn’s overactive imagination, as Deacon neither minds, nor makes a comment on it.  Nor is it unusual for multiple agents to go together on the more difficult assignments.

It’s not a bad thing.  Dawn welcomes the extra body since they usually keep Deacon occupied with talk.  This enables Dawn to fall back into her comfortable routine of quietly observing.

This recon mission, however, has Deacon and Dawn paired up alone, picking their way over piles of rubble.

“I feel like a Sherpa, climbing a mountain,” Deacon gripes.  “How much debris can you really pile in the streets, do you think?”

“Tons,” Dawn quips with a smirk.

“We only need one comedian in the group,” Deacon retorts.

Dawn lets out a soft chuckle, and they lull back into silence.  The only noise comes from the rubble shifting beneath their feet.

Deacon breaks the tranquility by trying to make conversation again.

“We haven’t been alone together in a while,” he starts, “annnddd that came out wrong.”

Dawn’s face turns pink, and she shares an awkward smile with Deacon.  “Sorry,” he says.  “On to another topic.”

“Okay,” Dawn says hesitantly.

“You said something when we first met; down at May’s,” Deacon mentions.

“That was nearly a year ago,” Dawn points out.

“I have a good memory,” he replies with a shrug.  “You said, and I’m paraphrasing here, 'that you used to be one of the reasons the Commonwealth wasn’t safe'.  Care to elaborate?  You know, now that we’re friends and all.”

Dawn makes a face. 

“What’s that about?” he asks gesturing at her expression.

“ ’Friends’?  Right.  So you want details?” she says, her tone a bit biting.

Deacon stops.  He glances around making sure they have some cover where they are, then continues.  “I might be new to the whole friend thing, but I figured that’s what this was.  Too much?  Cuz I could use the term ‘partner’ instead.  Seems a little impersonal if you ask me.”

Dawn frowns, looking away.  “We’re friends, Deacon.”

“You sure?  Sometimes I get the feeling that you’re just phoning it in.  That’s a phrase people used, right?”

She softens her demeanor, looking back at him.  “Yeah, and you’re right.”

“Cool.  About what?”

She sighs; studying him for a moment.  He does his best not to shift under her gaze.  She hasn’t looked at him like this in a while, and it’s making him nervous.  _Keep it together, Deacon_ , he thinks. 

“I… I’ve been a bad friend, and…  I’m sorry,” she admits, glancing at the ground.

He doesn’t say anything, making her look up at him uncertainly.  As soon as he sees her eyes, he breaks into a huge grin.  “Water under the bridge.   Let’s keep going.”

He starts to trudge off with a confused Dawn behind him.  “That’s it?” she asks.

“Yep,” he calls back.

“So, then you forgive me, and we’re friends because you say so?”

“Yeah, that’s the gist of it,” he beams at her.

“Friends spend time together, but…”  She stops walking.   Deacon turns and watches her; waiting.  “…but I keep ignoring you.”

“So you can only take me in small doses.  I can live with that.”

“That’s not why,” she mumbles.  Before he can ask why, she continues, “and they don’t mind hanging out alone.  Dez has been sending people with us, and I kind of liked the buffer,” Dawn admits begrudgingly.  “Why just the two of us now?”

“Has she?  I didn’t notice,” he shrugs.  “Besides we don’t need anyone else, it’s an ‘in and out’ job.  I’m the eyes and ears, you’re the muscle.”

She frowns at him.  “Then why did we need someone else the other times?”

“I don’t know.  Ask Dez.”

Dawn turns her face away, but he sees her jaw tighten, her eyes narrow.  “Something you want to share?” he asks.  “I can’t fix it for you if you don’t tell me what it is.”

“Maybe you ‘fixing it for me’, Deacon, is what’s making it worse.”  Her tone isn’t angry this time, but it still comes out more hostile than she meant it to.

“Alright, backing off, can we go?”  This conversation is starting to irritate him, and he doesn’t want to get into a fight with her.  They start moving slowly along.

Dawn doesn’t let it go, though.  “I don’t understand why she doesn’t like me,” she complains.

“I’m guessing this is still about Dez?”

“Yes,” Dawn snips, stopping again, this time in the center of the road.  It makes Deacon nervous when she does that.

“The way you just walk right out in the open.  It’s a wonder you’re head hasn’t been blown off by a sniper.  Just saying.”

Dawn glares at him.  “You’re an ass.”

“That… was not meant to sound rude,” he assures her.

She ignores his apology, wanting some answers.  “And what do you keep saying to Desdemona??  Maybe that’s why I can’t get along with her.”

“First off,” Deacon starts, “I’m only trying to keep you safe in both instances.  You want a sniper to pick you off so easily?? Fine!  And second, I don’t know, maybe it’s your charming personality?”

“Wow!”

She stares to walk off, but Deacon stops her.  He doesn’t touch her, just moves in her way.  She glowers at him, but doesn’t try to move around him.

“That was rude.  I’m sorry,” he insists.  “Can we start again?”

She stares at him, not saying anything.  He sighs.  “This is what I mean.  This silent treatment.”  She starts to protest, but he holds up his hands in surrender.  “Look, it works for me, alright.  I don’t mind… most of the time.  You have secrets that you don’t feel like sharing.  I get that.  Hell, most of the agents get that, but Dez… well, she likes to know who works for her.  It’s bad enough that she’s got me, but at least I give her other people’s secrets, so she lets it slide.”

“Mine too?” Dawn wonders.

“What?? Noooo!  I haven’t shared anything with her about you.  I’m not even sure she knows how much of you is cybernetic… unless you’ve told her.”

Dawn takes a deep breath, feeling bad about yelling at Deacon.  “I… she told me to…” _avoid you_ , she finishes in her head.  “It doesn’t really matter I guess, but… it’s been bothering me.”  She lets out a sigh, feeling deflated.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

She looks at him, her eyes sad, and searching.  He removes his sunglasses for her, and she smiles softly at him, but still seems dejected.  “Friends tell each other about their day,” she states quietly.

“We swap stories all the time,” Deacon replies, feeling the anger in the air dissipating.

“Friends tell you their secrets, at least some of them,” she continues as if he hadn’t said anything.

“I’m an open book, ask away.”  He keeps his tone light, though she keeps her solemn.

A wry smile touches her lips, “You always say that, but…  you like to make up stories.”

That gets to him a bit.  He stops looking at her directly.  “Not everything is a lie.”

She studies him.  “I believe you.”

Deacon scoffs at her reply, showing that he doubts her.  “Lies keep me safe.  They keep The Railroad safe,” he says, justifying his actions.

Dawn sighs, letting her eyes wander over him, then glancing away.  “I get that.  You lie, I evade.”  She snorts.  “Quite a pair we make, huh?”

“Guess so.”

They’re quiet for a bit, standing there in the rubble on the road.

Dawn breaks the silence this time.  “I want to tell you a secret.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he cautions her, suddenly worried about what she’ll say.

“I’ve wanted to apologize for when I took off.”

“When?”  The up and down of this conversation has him feeling emotionally off balance.

“Since we were talking about May’s earlier…. You had asked me to stay.”  She goes quiet for a minute.  Her brow creases.  “When I saved you from the raiders, you called me out on it.”

“What raiders?  When I ran into you again?”  She nods.  “Hey.  I had them on the run.”

They both smile for a moment, but turn serious again; thoughtful.  “Anyways...  I... I told you what you wanted to hear at May’s.  I..”  She meets his eyes again.  “I’m sorry, Deacon.  I shouldn’t have lied.  I knew I wasn’t going to stay there.  I … wanted to keep Al safe, nothing more.”

“It’s fine.  You barely knew me, and here I was asking you to stay with people you didn’t know at all.”  He tries to give off an indifferent air.

“Still… I am sorry.”

They opt for silence, and continue on their way. 

When he had met her after May’s, had he been that obvious that her leaving had upset him?  He had to work on his game face around her.  Also, he didn’t like how her apology touched him.  For her to apologize after all this time, and to genuinely mean it….

“Look,” he clears his throat.  “We’re amigos, right?  Consider it forgiven and forgotten.”

She smiles, and he returns it.  “Ok.  Good.”

“So…. does that mean I get an answer to **my** question?  About how you used to be a danger to the Commonwealth?”

“No.  The moment’s passed.  Maybe some other time,” and she picks up her speed, walking off with a grin.

“You’re a brat you know!” he yells after her.  Her laughter floats back to him.

“What if I shared a secret with you?” he shouts, glad that they haven’t run into any enemies.. yet.

She spins around, walking backwards.  “What secret?”

“What if I tell you why Dez assigned us together?  Sans chaperone.”

That gets her to stop.  _So, he **did** notice the escorts Dez sent along._

The sly grin on her face disappears, replaced by a suspicious look.  “Why?”

He wants to joke with her, but something about her demeanor makes him take the honesty route.  “I asked her.”

“Why?” she asks again. 

Since he didn’t stop walking, he’s nearly to her.  He can see the startled look on her face, and… the blush creeping up her cheeks.  _Is she blushing?_ he wonders.

He shrugs, walking past her.  “I didn’t like not spending time with you, so I had us partnered up.”

She stares at his back, a shocked look on her face.  _I’m reading too much into this.  He doesn’t mean it the way it sounds.  This is Deacon after all.  Right?_

“Gonna stand there all day looking like a statue?” he calls.

Dawn shakes off her stupor; chuckling at his comment.  She jogs to catch up with him, and they continue on to the rendezvous point without her asking him to clarify his comment. 

He’s glad that she’s predictable, he doesn’t want to have to make something up.  Whether or not she’s aware of it, Deacon’s tried to keep his lies to the barest minimum with her.


	14. Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *** A little bit longer chapter ***  
> Running from Super Mutants brings Dawn and Deacon a little closer, both physically and emotionally.  
> This gives her the opportunity to tell him a little bit more about herself, though she rambles a bit before getting there.  
> Deacon initiates a kiss, only to try and make things platonic again. 
> 
> *******************************************************************

A few weeks later has them climbing over the same debris-lined streets.  The last mission through this area went well.  Deacon got the intel he needed, and Dez liked how smoothly everything went down.  The safe house route was secured with only 3 gunners, one raider, and one cymbal monkey meeting their fate.

There’s been very little tension between Dawn and Deacon since their argument here.  They both decided to put it behind them.  The renewed friendship with Deacon has made Dawn decide to give Dez more of a chance.  And while nothing was openly discussed, the strain between the two women has eased somewhat.

“You know what this place needs?” Deacon asks.  Dawn only looks at him with mild interest.  “A crew of street-sweepers.  They’d be in business for quite a while, but eventually we could stroll down the road without donning our hiking boots.”

Dawn chuckles at him, shaking her head.  In the ensuing silence, a steady beeping can be heard.  They look at each other not understanding the noise at first, but it starts to grow in volume.

“Damned Super Mutants,” Deacon mutters. 

Dawn turns in a slow circle, scanning the area.  “I don’t see him yet, but I’m guessing he’s coming from that way.”

“Well, let’s not be here when he decides to crash this party,” Deacon replies jogging off in the opposite direction.

Dawn follows behind him, glancing back.  Just as they start to round a corner she sees the Super Mutant Suicider.  He doesn’t make it far down the street before his mini nuke detonates.  “One down,” Dawn says with a smile, only to run into Deacon’s back.

She frowns at him, but he’s not moving.  She puts her hand on his right arm to anchor herself, and leans around his left side to see what made him stop.  If front of them is a small army of Super Mutants.  Dawn uses her V.A.T.S to see how bad it is.  She straightens back up, staying behind him.  

“So what’s the word?” Deacon whispers.

“Two hounds, 2 suiciders, but I don’t think they’ve activated their nukes yet, 6 normal mutants, and 3 defenders.”

“Great.  All the makings for one hell of a party,” Deacon comments.

“I’m not much for parties, Deacon.  I think I’ll sit this one out.”

He slowly turns to her, trying to keep some of the enemies in his sight.  “Nuh, uh.  This is happening.  The trick to this is don’t die.”

“Oh, of course.”

He softly chuckles at her, as one of the hounds start to howl.  “And that’s our cue,” he remarks, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her down the street.

“YOU CAN’T HIDE PUNY HUMANS!” a Super Mutant bellows after them.

“Sure we can!” Deacon shouts back.

They run and shoot at the mutant hounds on their heels.  It’s difficult to do, but they manage to take down the two hounds.

They stumble up the biggest pile of rubble when Deacon receives a direct hit.  “My leg.  Ow.” He moans.  “If we’re going to keep running, you’re doing it without me,” he tells Dawn. 

“Negative,” she remarks. 

Now it’s her turn to pull him along.  As she does, she tosses him a stimpak.  “Here.”

“Thanks.”

At the bottom of the pile they stop for a moment to let Deacon’s stimpak take effect, and to return fire.  “This is the part where you’re supposed to die!” he yells.

“WE WILL MAKE YOU BLEED!” the Super Mutants scream back.

Another one falls to the ground dead, but the rest are still going strong.  Dawn and Deacon start running again, managing to evade most of the gunfire, but they hear another steady beeping creep up on them.

They slide down the next debris pile, and Deacon pulls Dawn into a narrow alley.  They hold position, waiting to see if they’ll be spotted.  If they are, at least only one super mutant can come at them at a time.

“I just hope the suicider runs past,” Dawn whispers.  She can’t really see since Deacon is in front of her.  She hopes her nightmares don’t come true.  She doesn’t want to watch him be her shield, and take the brunt of the bullets.

They wait.  They hear the mutants yelling, but they seem to be fading away.  After a minute they hear the faint sound of a mini-nuke going off.

“Think the coast is clear?” Deacon asks, looking over at Dawn.  _She’s too close_ , he thinks.

“I think so, but I can’t tell.”

“You’ve got some damage,” he murmurs, reaching for a stimpak. 

“I’ll be ok.  It’s minor, Deacon.”  She places her hand on his arm to stop him.  Her touch feels too warm to him.

“Uh, yeah,” he stammers.  “Sooo we should get going.”  He turns to leave, but Dawn closes the hand on his arm making him pause.

He turns and looks at her.  Her expression is serious, and… wanting?  _Not now_ , he thinks.  He shakes his head a little, and moves out of her grasp.  The air feels thick.

She moves forward again, this time only resting her hand on his arm by his elbow, but it’s enough to stop him again.  She doesn’t know why she’s being so brave, but it’s just them, and he’s so close…

His mouth feels dry, and he clears his throat.  “It’s probably safe now.  Let’s jet,” he nods towards the alley entrance.

“Deacon.”  She breathes out his name.  He shudders, desire runs through him.

She takes a tentative half-step towards him, closing the distance.

“This is a bad idea,” he barely manages to say, letting out a nervous sigh.

She doesn’t move, just looks at him, her breath coming in a little deeper.  She knows she won’t win him over by seductive moves, or with any smooth words.  She doesn’t think she could pull off either anyways, and most likely he’d laugh, ruining the moment.

She decides to offer him something else instead.  Truth.

Deacon watches her.  He wants to pull away, but he also wants to pull her closer.  _Just let me be alone.  It’s fine, better even_ , he screams in his head.  _It’s what I deserve._   He starts to say some of this, but she cuts him off by speaking first.

“Dez told me not to trust you, and… to keep it platonic.”  Her cheeks burn at that last admission.

He snorts a laugh.  “She said that?”  Dawn nods.  “Well, she’s right anyways,” he states somberly.

Dawn smiles a little, there’s a sadness in her eyes right now, but he can see that she still wants him.  At least he hopes that’s what he’s seeing.  He’s not strong enough to ask though, nor is he strong enough to move away right now.

“It’s not that you lie, Deacon.  I don’t mind that.  It’s… it’s that she told me to be careful with my secrets.  It’s your job to find out things that ‘I wouldn’t even tell my mom’ she said.”

“That’s me,” he retorts, wanting to make her back away since he can’t.  “You’re just a job.”  _That didn’t sound too mean did it?_

She frowns, but doesn’t step away from him.  Instead, she tightens her grip just the smallest amount, and goes back to talking, making him stay still… for now.

“I’m nervous, so bear with me,” she says with a sigh.  “There are two men in the woods…”

“Um.. where’s this story going?”  This is the second conversation they’ve had where’s she’s managed to knock him off balance.

She drops her hand, chuckling at him.  And while, a small part of him is saddened by the lack of her touch, a bigger part of him is relieved.  He can breathe again, and the tension seems to be diminishing.

Dawn continues, she wants to show him that she trusts him despite what Dez and the others have told her, “One man tells only the truth, and one tells only lies.  The only way past them is to figure out which is which and then they’ll let you through.”

“And this is some metaphor about us?” Deacon guesses.

She smiles, shaking her head.  She looks up at him, her eyes trying to search his, but his shades are on.  “No, I just have to… I’ll get there,” she replies, dropping her gaze.  She moves her hand back onto his arm, slowly brushing her palm up, towards his bicep. 

He doesn’t stop her, and finds his breath coming in a bit faster.

Her voice is low, “You get to ask one question which will tell who is the liar, and who tells the truth, but only one question.”  She glances up at him, and moves her hand back down, towards his hand.

“You can ask all the questions you want.  I’m an open-book, remember?” he jests, trying to defuse the situation, but nothing about her mood changes.  The atmosphere is getting thick again. 

She lifts up his hand, and bends slightly down, allowing her to gently place a kiss on his palm.  He stops breathing, his eyes close.  She continues to lift his hand as she straightens back up.  She places his hand lightly on her cheek and whispers his name. 

He looks at her, and he feels like he’s trying to sneak past a sleeping Deathclaw.  His heart is pounding, and his nerves are on edge.  Somehow he manages to croak out some words, “What’s the one question then, Dawn?”

She smiles, and closes her eyes, pressing his hand flush against her face.  “I don’t know,” she softly chuckles.  “I was never very good at riddles.” 

He relaxes some at her poor joke.  She opens her eyes, watching him.  Her smiles disappears, and she looks a little pained.  He tenses again.

“I… I woke up a few years ago,” she begins, and lets out a shaky breath.  “They toured me around the facilities.  Explained why we lived underground.”

 _Oh, shit_ , he thinks.  _This is about the vault._

Dawn turns her eyes to the alley wall.  This is hard for her to talk about, which is why she needed the riddle as build up.  “I was there for over year… with them.”   

He rubs her cheek as a stray tear touches his hand.  His other arm goes around her waist and pulls her close against him.  He smells her, breathes her in … and starts coughing a little.  He’s reminded that they’re still near a super mutant hideout, which is not filled with the most pleasant aromas.

She laughs at him, tilting her face up.  He grins down at her.  _Her eyes are so blue_ , he thinks, and he goes for it.  He presses his lips to hers, tightening his grip on her waist.  The hand on her face goes back into her hair.  A soft groan escapes her, and he deepens the kiss.

He pulls back a little, just to give them some much needed air, and then he kisses her again.  He feels himself getting aroused, and only barely worries if she can tell, at least until she pushes herself against him, and he hears her moan again. 

He breaks the kiss.  “We should probably take this somewhere safer,” he suggests.

She nods, and they move away from each other.  Dawn immediately starts to feel insecure, but covers it up by adopting her mission personality.  Deacon notices her demeanor turn serious and rigid, but doesn’t make a comment.  He’s thankful, assuming this means that she won’t try to talk about the kiss.  He doesn’t even know what he’d say. 

Deacon turns, and leaves the alley.  Dawn trails behind.  He pauses.  She makes no comment as they stand there.  The cost is clear, so he uses the opportunity to try and make a decision.  He could lead them to a nearby Railroad hideout, and they could pick up from where they just left off, or he can head towards their rendezvous point, which is still about half a day away.

He glances at her.  She doesn’t meet his gaze, just faces forward, waiting.  He starts moving.  _No need to make a choice right now_ , he reasons, _They’re both in this direction, sort of_.

He’s tempted to continue on, and not try to revisit what just happened between them, but he worries Dawn will pull away from him again if he does that.  He’s not blind, he sees how she blushes around him, and besides, he can stand her being quiet, he just can’t tolerate her avoiding him.

 _Ugh, what the hell did you get yourself into?_ he chastises himself.   

They quietly make their way over the rubble, keeping an ear out for more Super Mutants, but also because neither really knows how to proceed.  Dawn keeps focused on the task at hand, while Deacon keeps casting glances at her.  He doesn’t like how indifferent she seems, knowing there’s more there than she’s letting on.  He wants to talk, though.  He hates when it’s dead silent.

“Uh, why don’t you continue telling me about your time in the vault,” he broches, doubting she’ll tell him right now.

She shakes her head, but remains emotionless.

“Or we can wait until we get to the hideout,” he suggests.  “There’s one just up ahead providing nothing’s moved in while we’ve been gone.”

She nods, feeling nervous about being with Deacon… alone, at a safe house.  It’s what she wants, but…  

“Okay.  How about I sing us some show tunes?” he says, interrupting her thoughts.

She furrows her brows, “No, thank you.”

“Work with me, Dawn,” he pleads.

She shoots him the barest of glances, her frown deepening as guilt creeps up.  _I shouldn’t have pushed him.  I shouldn’t have kissed him_.  It doesn’t matter to her that he was the one to start the kiss, the guilt and anxiety is there.

“O.. okay,” she says hesitantly.  “What do you want to talk about?”

He sighs, relieved at the small amount of progress he just made.  “Well.. how’s it going with the songs you’re going to give Magnolia?”

She falters in her steps, forgetting that he was there when she asked Hancock about the songs.  “Uh.. good.”

“Can’t wait to hear one.  Care to share one now?”

She looks at him, and regrets it.  Her cheeks turn red thinking about how they had just kissed, how it had felt, and how she’d love to kiss him again.  Right now, in fact.  She quickly glances away.  “Uh, no I… I don’t sing,” she mutters.

He ignores her nervousness, like he’s trying to ignore his own.  “Did you get the sheet music?  Cuz I think I could belt out a few stanzas for you,” he jokes.

She turns to him again, stopping.  “You’d sing for me?”  She watches him curiously.

He tries to keep it light, knowing she’s probably reading a lot into anything he says right now.  “Sure. Crooning all over the Commonwealth was my dream as a kid.”

She laughs at him, and some of her jitters dissipate.  “Alright, sing for me then.  We… we have a way’s to go.  It’s several hours to the rendezvous point, right?”  She looks at him uncertainly.

“Yeah.  You don’t want to go to the safe house?” he nods in the direction they’d need to go.

She watches him for a moment.  He tries to give off a casual air.  _Let her make the decision_ , he thinks, hoping she’ll say no.

She looks down the road, weighing her options.  He likes you, Glory had said.  Keep your distance, Dez had told her.  He’ll push you away, Glory reminded her.    

He studies her, his heart beating hard in his chest. _Keep your distance, Dawn.  I’m no good for you,_ he practically yells in his head.

She stands there awkwardly, trying to avoid looking at him, but having a hard time.  He doesn’t seem sure either, but she could just be projecting her feelings.  She sighs.  “No.  The moment’s passed,” she whispers.

He lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.  “Yeah, it has,” he replies softly.

Her expression turns sad, but she doesn’t say anything, just starts walking again. 

“Cooler heads prevail,” he mutters to himself.

“Hmm?” she questions him.

“So, how about that sheet music?” he says louder.

She shakes her head, not looking at him.  “I… I haven’t gotten it yet.”

He lets out a soft chuckle.  “Well, bad news for you, I know several songs, and yes, they actually are show tunes.”

She groans, and he laughs.  For now, they try to ignore their awkward feelings.

“Alright then.  Prepare to be blown away.”  She smiles, but doesn’t say anything.  He decides to begin with a song from The King and I.  _She’ll regret thi_ s, he thinks with a big grin, _but it’s better to subject her to my singing than letting her dwell on whether there’s an ‘us’ or not._ A decision he’s not ready to make either.


	15. A Brief Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacon tries to keep Dawn close, but Glory warns him to stop playing games.  
> Giving Dawn a break, Deacon makes a trip to Goodneighbor, picking up a surprise for Dawn.
> 
>  
> 
> ***************************************

Just like Deacon was sure she would do, as soon as they are safely back at Headquarters, Dawn begins finding excuses to keep her distance from him.  He successfully thwarts most of her attempts.  She even manages to get the other agents in on it by having them lie on her behalf.  They readily agree, although they don’t understand why she’s trying to avoid Deacon.

“Alright,” he tells her one day after several attempts of forcing her to hang out with him.  “I’ll give you a break.”

Dawn looks up from a stack of papers she’s been scribbling in.  “No more card games, or checkers?” she asks.

“Nope, none.”

She grins at him, closing the notebook on her lap, and pulling it close to her.

He puts his hand on his heart.  “You wound me with your lack of trust.”

She glances down.  Running a hand across the make-shift cover, she replies, “It’s not that.  I’m… someday.”

He plops down next to her.  “Don’t worry about it.”  Changing topics he adds, “Don’t you want to know where I’m going?”

She looks at him warily, but at least she’s not clutching the notebook anymore, he notices.  “Where?” she asks.

“Goodneighbor.”  Her face lights up.  “Want anything?  Or want me to take anything?”

“Yes.”  She hops up, sets her pencil and notebook down on the small table, and briskly walks off. 

Deacon eyes the papers, but doesn’t touch them.  He leans back on the couch and lets out a sigh.  He wants to believe her trust in him is just ignorance, but he knows better.  She’s been warned about him, and she’s spent enough time around him to see it for herself, and somehow she still trusts him.  _Unless it’s a test_ , he thinks.  He scoffs at the idea as she comes bounding back in.

She doesn’t even glace towards her things.  _Perhaps she’s forgotten about it?_ But no, she pushes the notebook to the side, closer to him, and sits down on the table.

She looks both excited and nervous, like a child about to open a gift.  “Would you give this to Daisy for me?”  She hands him an envelope.

He takes it from her, turning it over in his hands.  “It’s not sealed,” he comments, a brow raised. 

She waves her hand, dismissing the idea. 

He shrugs, and tucks it away.  “Anything else?”

“Yeah, I have a few things you can sell, if we want the caps.”

“I’ll take whatever you’re giving me,” he replies with a wink.

Her eyes widen a little, and her cheeks turn pink.  He’s playing a dangerous game, he thinks.  _You can’t keep pulling her close, and pushing her away._

“Okay.  I’ll got get the other stuff,” she falters.  She stands up, scooping her notebook and pencil into her hand, but doesn’t go yet.  “Umm… Just promise not to tell Tinker Tom I didn’t sell to him first.”

“Deal.”

She walks away, and his smile turns into a frown.

“You’ve got to stop messing with her,” Glory admonishes him.

Deacon sighs, and gets up.  He pretends to brush something off of his pants to give him a moment to slip back into his normal persona.  “Me?” he asks with a smile.  “It’s all fun and games with that one.”

“For her too?” Glory cautions.

He shakes his head.  “You got me, Glory.  But I’m working on decluttering… the bed I made… I’m mixing metaphors,” he says trying to lighten the mood.

“Dez might not care if you break Dawn’s heart, but I do,” Glory warns.

“I will consider your advice.  Good talk,” he says, patting her on the arm as Dawn comes back over.  Glory rolls her eyes knowing the issue has been dropped for now.

Dawn hands him a knapsack.  “Here you go, Deacon.  And thank-you.”

“Of course,” he says.  He glances between the two women.  “Alright, I’m out of here.”

Glory and Dawn watch him leave.  As soon as he’s out of sight, Glory turns to Dawn.  “Hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.  Come sit with me.”

Dawn grimaces.  “We don’t have to play checkers do we?”

Glory laughs.  “I’ll leave Deacon to force that injustice on you.”

*********   

 

Deacon heads straight for Daisy’s shop upon entering Goodneighbor.

“Hi, sweetie,” she says.  “Where’s Dawn?”

“Left her at home to tend to the children,” he jests.

“Aww, well, maybe next time,” she shrugs.

“That doesn’t mean she sent me out empty-handed.  Got a letter here for you from our favorite former vault dweller.”

Daisy grins as Deacon hands over the envelope from Dawn.  “I’ll read this later,” she says, tucking it under the counter. 

“Man.  And here I thought you’d let me know what she wrote.”

“Not a chance.”

“Fine, and even after I brought you other goodies too,” he beams, holding up the knapsack Dawn sent with him.

“How ‘bout I make up for it by parting with some caps?”

“I can accept that,” he agrees.

After Deacon sells all of the items he brought with him, he turns to leave, thanking Daisy for her time.

“Wait,” she says.  “Let me grab something.”  She climbs the stairs to her apartment, while the guard at the entrance keeps an eye on the store.

Deacon leans against the counter.  He wants to grab Dawn’s letter, but he had plenty of opportunity to read it on the way here, so why risk it now?  Instead he drums a rhythm on the counter.

Daisy comes back down carrying a small package.  It’s wrapped in an old cloth.  “Here.  For Dawn,” she states.

“May I?” he asks.

“Sure, what the heck.”

Deacon unwraps the present, and smiles at what he sees.  He wraps it back up, and tucks it away.  “I’ll make sure she gets it.”

“I’m sure you will.”

He leaves, and heads over to The Third Rail for a drink and a quick bite before finishing his mission here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ******************************************************************************************************************  
> On a side note, I have nothing against checkers, nor does Dawn (normally), but Deacon made her play a lot lately.


	16. Breakfast Is Served

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Deacon and Dawn come back a little quicker from their missions, clearly missing the other.  
> They enjoy a (mostly peaceful) breakfast together.
> 
>  
> 
> ****************************************

“She’s not here,” Desdemona informs him as he enters Headquarters.  She puts out her cigarette, and looks at him. 

“The Queen?  And here I was looking forward to meeting her,” he comments.

She lets out a soft chuckle.  It’s late, and she doesn’t want to disturb any of the sleeping agents.  Keeping her voice low, she retorts, “For a spy, you’ve been very obvious lately.”

He glances away, pretending something else has caught his eye.  “I’ll work on it.”

Dez nods her head.  “She’ll be back tomorrow.  I sent her out with Drummer Boy.  They went over to Bunker Hill for a supply run.”

Deacon looks back over.  “Well, since I have time, I’ll go clean up, and get in a few winks.”

“And get me my report?”

“You got it, boss.”

*********

 

He rolls over stretching, and bumps a warm body.  The soft moan tells him exactly who he just nudged.

He finishes rolling over, careful not to disturb the person next to him, but he needn’t be so cautious as a pair of mismatched blue eyes meet his darker blue eyes.

“Morning, Dawn,” he greets.

“Morning.”

“Been here long?”

She shakes her head.

He reaches up for his sunglasses which are laying just above his head on the floor by the wall.  She places a hand on his arm stopping him from putting them on his face.  Deacon smiles nervously at her.  “We’re not alone here,” he whispers.

Her eyes widen for a moment, and her cheeks start to darken.  “I’m not here for… anything.  I just saw you lying here, and…” _I couldn’t help myself_ , she finishes in her head.

He drapes the hand holding his glasses onto her waist, and shifts ever so slightly closer to her.  “And?” he asks.   

She just stares at him, her breath coming in faster.  She’s afraid to do or say anything.  He’s right, they’re not alone here, but… she wants him.  Also, she doesn’t know what will cause him to pull away, so she stays still.

He lowers his gaze, allowing himself a moment to just be, as she’s said before.  He takes in the smell of her, the feel of her under his hand, the rapid sound of her breathing.  He wants to give her what she’s silently asking for, but he doesn’t know if he can do this again.  He’s not sure he has it in himself.  Losing Barbara was hard, and he lives a dangerous life, they both do.

He looks up at her, but her eyes are closed.  A soft smile crosses his face.  He moves his head closer to hers and kisses her gently on her forehead.  Her eyes open.  He pulls back some.  “Let’s get this day started, hmm?”

She frowns a little, wanting more, but doesn’t argue with him.  They sit up together on the mattress, and she turns to him.  “Breakfast?”

“Yeah, that would be great.”  He pauses for a second.  “Give me a moment to look presentable?”

She laughs, which warms his heart.  “I’ll bring it back over here.  Take your time.”  

********

 

She comes back over with two bowls, each with a sweet roll balanced on top. 

“So what delight did you bring me today?”

She blushes.  “Tommy Whispers was on breakfast duty today.”

“Ah,” he says taking one of the bowls, while moving over so she can sit down on the mattress.  “So nothing too good, huh?”

“It doesn’t smell bad.  He said it was Radstag stew, but Glory didn’t seem convinced.”

Deacon shrugs, “You only live once, right?” he says as he puts a heaping spoonful into his mouth.  “Mmm.”

Dawn chuckles and starts eating the stew, though her first bite is a tenth of Deacon’s.

“What made you come back early?”  Deacon asks, breaking off a piece of the sweet roll.  “Dez said you weren’t due back until later today.”

Dawn refuses to meet his gaze, and he can only assume he was the reason.  What can he say to her?  He came back early for the same reason.  He scoffs at himself.  Dez was right, he’s being too obvious.  Everyone at The Railroad must know about them, and they’re not even a thing… not really.

“Fine, don’t answer that.  I have more questions where that one came from.”  She looks at him, curiosity written on her face, but continues eating.  

He gives her a smirk, shaking his head slightly.  He won’t kid himself, she probably won’t answer his other questions either, but that won’t stop him from asking.

“What was in the letter to Daisy?”

“You didn’t read it?” she asks surprised.

“Did you want me to?  Cuz you need to tell me that next time.  Or better yet, write ‘Deacon’ on the envelope, then I’ll know.”

She sneers at him, and he grins, but uses a page from her book, and remains silent.  He waits, slowly eating his meal.  Finally, she gives in.

“It was just the usual, ‘hi how are you’, and I told her about another book she might like if she can find it.”

“That it?”

She studies him for a moment, and sets her bowl into her lap.  Meeting his gaze, she confesses the rest of the letter.  “I told her all about the new guy I’m dating.”

“Oh, yeah?  What’d you say?” his interest piqued.

“I told her how I like to run my hands through his blonde hair, and stare into his brown eyes.  I told her how serious things have been, and how I’d like her to keep it a secret from Deacon.”

“Touché,” he says, feeling a little deflated.

She breaks into a big grin.  “It wasn’t sealed, you could’ve read it.”

“How do you know I didn’t?  Maybe I just want to hear you admit to what was in it?”

She goes back to eating her stew, and shrugs.  “It doesn’t matter either way.  I only trusted you to deliver it to Daisy, and you did, so thank you.”

He scowls for a moment.  “I’m really not a good guy.  I know the goofy attitude can throw people off, but you should put your trust in someone else.”

She looks at him.  Her expression is one of concern and he doesn’t like it.  “I don’t need your pity, Dawn.”

Her expression softens.  “I don’t pity you.”

“No, then what’s with that look?”

“What?  I always look like this.”

“Ok,” he says, his tone a bit grumpy.

She scoops up the last bit of stew, eats it, and then breaks her roll in half.  She holds out one half to Deacon, who’s not paying attention, and is sullenly staring off to the side.

She waves it a little, and leans forward so she’s more in his line of sight.  He turns to her; a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

She keeps holding it out, but he doesn’t take it.  A scowl forms on her face, “I can’t hold this all day.  My arm’s getting tired,” she whines.

He reluctantly take the offered roll; she relaxes, and starts eating her half.  “I can decide for myself who to trust,” she states softly, hoping her statement doesn’t start an argument again.

He nods, and decides to drop it for now.  He doesn’t know why he’s trying to fight with her about it anyways.  He wants her trust.  Shouldn’t he be happy that he has it?


	17. One Year Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn has officially been with The Railroad for one year now.  
> Tinker Tom gets the ok to throw her an anniversary party.  
> An old acquaintance is moved to Headquarters.
> 
>  
> 
> *******************************************

Deacon and Desdemona are deep in conversation about a potential recon mission, when Tinker Tom saunters over and interrupts.

“Now I know you two are busy, I see it written on your faces that you don’t have time for what ole’ Tinker’s going to tell you, but I’m telling you anyways.”

“Just get on with it,” Dez dryly commands.

“Oh, I’m getting there.  Did you know that a certain someone has been with The Railroad for nearly a year now?”

Both Dez and Deacon just stare at Tinker Tom.

“Okay.  I’m going with that you didn’t know, not that you don’t care.”  He waves off their disinterested expressions.  “What we need is a party.  We don’t have enough of those.”

“I agree with him,” Deacon beams.

“See?  The man knows what’s important.”

“And who is this party for?” Dez asks, blowing smoke up towards the ceiling.

“Why for our former vault dweller, of course!” Tinker announces.

Desdemona sighs and shakes her head, but already sees the commotion this has caused in the agents around the room.  She concedes.  “Fine, but nothing too flashy.”

“You got it,” Tinker says turning to leave.

“Wait up.  I can lend you a hand or two,” Deacon chimes in.

“Alright,” Tinker grins.

“Keep it under budget and tasteful,” Dez warns them.

“Will do, boss,” Tinker replies, and him and Deacon wander off together, already whispering conspiratorially. 

*********

 

Dawn sits up stretching.  She yawns and looks around, a furrow on her brow.  Tommy and Deacon had been laying nearby when she had gone to bed.  Neither one is there now, and it’s still early.  It seems strange that they’d be up already, but she dismisses it for now.  Getting up, she heads towards the bathrooms to clean up.

Coming out, she looks ready to start the day, except that she’s still shuffling tiredly, and is trying to stifle another yawn.

She can smell food cooking, and hears muffled chatter and laughter coming from the cooking stations in the next room.

Dawn wanders over only to see Tinker Tom, Tommy Whispers and Deacon trying to make breakfast.  At least that’s what she can assume is happening.

“Morning, Sunshine,” Deacon calls.  He waves a hand that’s holding a spoon, letting a glop of something sail off onto the counter.

“I thought you could cook,” Dawn states perplexed.

“We’re trying a new recipe.  Takes a whole village to make this,” Tinker Tom offers.

Dawn chuckles.  “Okay.  Is there something safe to eat now?” she questions.

“Coming right up,” Deacon chimes in.

He sets his spoon down and picks up another one, which he uses to scoop up some Blamco Mac and Cheese.  He places a healthy portion in a bowl, and hands it to Dawn.  She looks at it, then at the guys in the room.  “For breakfast?”

“Yep, I love this stuff,” Deacon proudly admits.  He puts the spoon he used into her bowl, then taking her hips, her spins her around, and gently pushes her out of the room.

She turns back with a frown, then shaking her head, leaves to find a place to eat her food in peace.

*********

 

Once she’s done, she slips into the kitchen area, and places her bowl on a counter.  Tommy is missing, and Deacon and Tinker Tom are too engrossed in their experiment to notice her.  She looks worriedly at the mess, but decides it’s their problem to clean up.

Dawn crosses back to the main hall with her notebook.  She sits down, enjoying the mostly quiet morning.  She flips to a few pages where she’s been writing down song lyrics as she thinks of them.

_It’s funny how you can sing a song perfectly when it’s playing on the radio, but as soon as you have to sing it alone, you can’t remember most of the words_ , she muses.

She’s interrupted about half an hour later by a shadow blocking her light.  She looks up to see Drummer Boy standing there.

“Dez has another supply run set up for us.”

“Alright.”  Dawn gets up and locks her stuff away.

Coming back to Drummer Boy she asks him, “What are we after this time?”

“Just the basics.”

**********

 

“Has anyone seen Dawn?  And do I need to ask what’s going on in here?” Desdemona questions, looking around the room.

“We sent her out,” Tommy Whispers replies, while helping Glory hang up a handmade sign on the wall.

“Mmm.  This is already becoming a production.” She glances around at the make-shift decorations.  “Well, when she comes back, tell her to find me.  I have a surprise for her.  Also, Glory, I could use your help setting up a spot for our new resident agent.”

Glory and Tommy finish hanging the banner up.  “Ok, Tommy, you’re on your own for now.  I’ll be back to check on your progress,” Glory says leaving with Dez.

*********

 

Drummer Boy leads the way back into Headquarters.  Both him and Dawn are carrying supplies.  As soon as they round a corner everyone yells “Surprise!”

Dawn nearly drops her parcels, but recovers quickly enough.  A nearby agent relieves her of her items.

“For me?” she asks seeing the banner with her name on it.

“Yep,” Glory shouts.  “We wanted to wish you a happy anniversary!”

“Thank-you,” Dawn replies.  Her face turns red since she’s not used to so much attention at once.

Dez moves to the center of the room getting everyone’s attention.  “Before we begin eating all of the wonderful food Deacon, Tommy, and Tinker made, I have a surprise for Dawn, who has not only been with The Railroad for one year, but has spent all of her time stationed at Headquarters.”

Desdemona makes a motion to an agent off to the side who ushers in P.A.M.  Tears prick at Dawn’s eyes as it’s been a long time since she’s seen the assaultatron.

Dawn walks over to P.A.M. while Dez tells everyone that this is the newest resident to Headquarters.

“Hi P.A.M.” Dawn greets her shyly.

“Introductory token recognized.  Greetings, Agent Dawn.  It has been a while since this unit has seen you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Dawn chuckles.

Deacon appears at her side, and nudges her towards the assaultatron.  Dawn extends a hand, which P.A.M. briefly shakes.  A smile spreads across Dawn’s face.  _It’s nice to see a familiar face_ , she thinks.

“Alright,” Dez announces.  “Everybody welcome P.A.M. and congratulate Dawn, then let’s eat.”  Turning to Dawn, she adds, “Here’s to another year.”

“Agreed,” Deacon whispers close by.  A blush spreads across Dawn’s face as Dez walks away, and the agents file by.  They shake her hand or pat her arm, and all of them pass along their ‘congrats’.  Her face hurts after a bit with all the smiling, but she feels happy.   She even shakes hands with Doctor Carrington who tells her there’s no hard feelings. 

She smiles at him, reevaluating her choice to not help him.  Perhaps she will seek him out later, and ask him if there’s something she can do.

Deacon stays by her side until everyone has left to eat.  “I might have a present for you later, so don’t go too far,” he confesses.  Before she can react to his statement, Tinker Tom comes over, and hands a slip of paper to Dawn.

“What’s this?”

“That there is a coupon for one free tune-up.  You just let me know when.”

Dawn stares at the slip in her hand.  “You just want a peak under the hood,” she accuses him playfully.

“Nuh uh.  I just want to help a friend.  And if I happen to see how those implants work, then that’s just a happy accident.”

“Thank-you,” she replies, slipping the paper into a pocket as Tinker wanders off too.

Dawn realizes that she’s alone.  She looks around, reminiscing.  It hasn’t been bad being with The Railroad this past year.  She hopes she can stay for a while more, she thinks as she heads into the cooking area where the food is set out.  And wow is there a lot of food! 

_So this is what the guys were doing this morning_.  Dawn stands there stunned for a moment. 

She loads some food onto a plate, and finds a place to lean against a wall.  She listens to the conversations around her, and joins in once in a while, but not too often.  She likes that no one is making a fuss over her.  In fact, the main event is P.A.M. herself, who has quite a group gathered around her.

Deacon, meanwhile, uses the festivities as an excuse to bend Desdemona’s ear.

“Seriously, Dez.  We need a new pass-phrase,” Dawn hears him complain.  “We’ve had this one long enough, and it doesn’t even make sense.  ‘We ran out of gas’.  Who drives?”

“What do you propose then?” Dez says with a raised eyebrow.  _This out to be good_ , she thinks sarcastically.

“What about ‘Is your refrigerator running?  Better catch it’?”  Dez just stares at him, but Dawn, who has wandered closer, laughs.  “See?  Dawn likes it.”

“No, I don’t.  That was a bad joke.”

“I’m with her,” Desdemona agrees.  “And if you think the current phrase doesn’t make sense, yours is worse.”

“Oh, come on.  I read it in a pre-war joke book I found.  I’m sure it was hilarious back then.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Dawn remarks.  Dez and Deacon pause for a moment at Dawn’s comment, but neither ask her to clarify.

“Fine,” Deacon says.  “I can come up with others.”

“I like the current pass-phrase,” Dawn chimes in.  “It’s nostalgic.”

This time Deacon does question her.  “Alright.  It’s nostalgic for who?  The pre-war ghouls in Goodneighbor?  You?”

Dawn just shrugs.

“Well, if you think of anything good,” Desdemona states, “run them by me.  You’re right, Deacon, we’ve used this one long enough.  But,” she says pointedly, “whatever we choose, needs to be an improvement.”

“Oh, it’ll be fantastic,” he declares. 

“Mmm hmm,” Dez replies, leaving to mingle.

Deacon turns his attention back to Dawn.  “One.  I thought we were friends, but you didn’t have my back.  What gives?”

“What?  I like the phrase,” she admits.

“And two.  How old are you?  Cuz if I had to guess based on your comments, I’d say 300, but you don’t look a day over 99.”

Dawn sneers at him.  “I can’t like old things?”

“I hope you’re not talking about me, and yes, you can.  I love Old World widgets.  Worth a fair amount, too.  But I don’t think you’re talking about it the same way I do.  Anything you want to share?”  He studies her eyes, noticing how she’s trying to avoid meeting his gaze.

“No,” she mumbles.

Deacon takes a breath, and nods.  “Ok,” he concedes, “but don’t think I won’t follow up on this later.”


	18. Parting Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the festivities over, Dawn gets some upsetting news.  
> She doesn't handle it as well as she could have, leaving Deacon to track her across The Commonwealth.  
> Hancock, thankfully, gives him the lead he needs.
> 
>  
> 
> *****************************************************************

The next day is full of a lot of sluggish agents picking at the leftovers and helping clean up Headquarters.

After a lot of scrubbing, Dawn flops down on a mattress, hoping to rest up some.  Desdemona wants her to clear out some raiders that have taken over an old safe house.  She’s to go out alone, so she wants to make sure she’ll be focused and ready.  A clearing of a throat has her opening her eyes to Glory.

“Sorry to bother you, but…” Glory pauses, looking uncomfortable.

Dawn sits up as Glory squats down.  “Is everything ok?”

“No.”  Dawn watches her friend, who keeps her gaze down.  After a moment, Glory speaks up again, pulling an envelope out of her jacket pocket.  “Here.  Dez didn’t want me to give this to you, but I kept it.  I thought I’d wait until after the party.”

Dawn takes the envelope, and pulls the contents out.  Setting the envelope down, she scans the letter in her hand.   After a moment she looks up, her eyes meeting Glory’s.  “Why couldn’t you have given this to me yesterday?” she asks confused.  “It’s just a letter from Al.  He writes often enough.”

Glory lets out a heavy sigh; her voice is low and sad.  “He died, Dawn.”

Dawn freezes, surprised by the news.  She doesn’t do anything besides stare down at the paper in her hand, unseeing.

“I’m so sorry,” Glory mutters.

“It’s not your fault.  Thank-you for letting me know,” Dawn replies stiffly.

“Of course.  Are you going to be o.k.?” Glory asks.   

“Yes.  Excuse me.”  Dawn gets up and walks away, leaving Glory watching after her with a worried look on her face.  _Maybe she’s going to find Deacon.  Hope he can help her deal with this._

But Dawn doesn’t go find Deacon.  Instead, she seeks out Desdemona.  She keeps her face and mannerisms passive, but inside she is quite livid, and sad.

Dawn doesn’t have to wait long for Dez to finish talking to Drummer Boy.  As soon as she’s done she turns her attention to Dawn.  Calmly, Dawn sets Al’s letter down in front of Desdemona, who picks it up, and immediately sets it back down.

“It would’ve been best if you had ceased communication with him when you joined our cause,” Dez remarks.

Dawn says nothing, only studies the woman in front of her.

Dez takes a hit of her cigarette, and blows out a cloud of smoke, making sure it goes off to the side.  “I take it Glory told you more than simply giving this to you?”  Dawn barely nods, so Desdemona continues.  “The agent there let us know as soon as it happened.  It was quick, but happened just like Al thought it would.  The synths returned, but instead of knocking on doors, they went right to his place, and laid waste to everything and everyone inside,” she informs Dawn matter-of-factly.

“When?”

“A few weeks ago,” Dez says almost dismissively.

Dawn clenches her jaw, and narrows her eyes, but keeps her voice neutral.  “You wanted to destroy the letter?”

“Yes.”

“But Glory kept it?”

“Yes.”

“Were you going to tell me what happened?”

Desdemona shrugs, snuffing out her cigarette.  “If you came to me wanting answers, yes.”

Dawn closes her eyes for a moment, struggling not to shout or cry.  When she opens them, she simply picks her letter back up, and walks away.  She doesn’t say anything to anyone she passes.  She knows how to shut herself down, and not feel.  It’s how she survived Vault 98 for as long as she did.

She locks the letter up with her things, and lays down on a nearby mattress.  After a few hours of troubled sleep, she gets up, and packs the supplies needed for her mission.

As she leaves, she passes by Desdemona.  “You know,” Dez offers.  “The Institute could’ve gotten ahold of one of your letters to Al, and that’s what got him killed.  You can never be too careful out there.”

“Of course,” Dawn crisply replies before leaving.

*********

 

“Okay,” Deacon says out loud, trying to calm himself.  “We know she went to the safe house and cleared out the raiders.  Her body wasn’t there, so we assume she’s alive.  She didn’t come to Goodneighbor, which means?”  He looks to Glory for help, panic evident in his tone, and body language.  His sunglasses are hiding nothing today.

“We’ll find her,” Glory says, trying to reassure her friend.  “Let’s go check out Al’s Place.  If I were her I’d want to go see it for myself.”

Deacon lets out a heavy sigh.  “Yeah.  Lead the way.”

“I should’ve told you sooner, but I thought she’d talk to you before talking to anyone else.”

“Me too,” Deacon says dejectedly.

**********

 

Having already grilled poor Daisy, Deacon stands at the entrance to the Old State House.  He takes a deep breath, and walks in.  This is his last hope of finding Dawn. 

He and Glory had gone to Al’s Place, and it was indeed destroyed.  The synths razed everything.   And what they hadn’t destroyed, looters had gotten to.  It was truly sad to see how soiled the place seemed.

There was no evidence showing that Dawn had been there.  Deacon hoped she hadn’t seen the destruction, but he suspected she probably had.

He didn’t want to keep dragging Glory around The Commonwealth, though she had offered to help him as long as he wanted her to.  Deacon ended up sending her back to Headquarters.  Thankfully she hadn’t argued too much with him, seeing that he needed to continue on his own.

 _She really is a true friend too_ , he thinks.  Did he deserve two?  Often he didn’t even think he deserved one, and it was killing him that he couldn’t find that one.

With Glory gone, he decided to head back to Goodneighbor.  Maybe he had missed her, or she was hiding out there, and didn’t want him to know.  Which is why he ended up interrogating Daisy, and is now heading up to see if the Mayor knows anything.

*********

 

“Yeah, she was here.  Can’t really miss her in that blue suit, can you?” Hancock muses from his couch.

“I’ve tried to get her to dull it down, but she does what she wants.”

“I can see that,” Hancock nods.  “Sit.  Take a load off.  You seem stressed.”

“I’ll stand thanks,” Deacon says, jamming his hands into his jean pockets.

“Suit yourself.  Want some Jet?” the Mayor offers.  Deacon shakes his head.  “If that’s not your style, got some Whiskey too.”

“Maybe next time,” Deacon replies.

“Look.  You pacing around the room is making me nervous.  Sit, relax, and then I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

Deacon lets out a defeated sigh, and sits down.  Hancock chuckles, getting up.  He saunters over to the countertop.  “So what’ll it be?”

“Whiskey,” Deacon replies, leaning back.  He’s exhausted, and it’s taking its toll on him.  If he doesn’t find Dawn soon, he won’t be any good to anyone, least of all himself.

“Here.”  Deacon opens his eyes, realizing he had dozed off for a moment.  He takes the drink and downs it.  Shaking his head, he sets the glass on the table in front of him.  He stays sitting forward, and waits for Hancock to settle back down across from him.

“I don’t mean to rush you,” Deacon starts.

“I know.  You’re looking for your girl,” the Mayor interrupts.

“So?” Deacon asks.

“So, I sent her on her way.  She stayed a short spell at Daisy’s, sleeping, but not much else.  Wouldn’t say much.”

“She never really does,” Deacon comments.

“Yeah, well.  She was bringing the place down.  Couldn’t have that.  Plus she was worrying one of my shop owners.”  Hancock pauses, taking a swallow of his own drink.  “Couldn’t send her to Doctor Amari’s though, as I hear they’re not on speaking terms.”

“Then where’d you send her?  And when?”

“ ‘bout a week ago, and to Diamond City.  Told her to look up the detective there.  Nick and I go back a ways.  Thought he might be able to help her.”

“Why a detective?”  Deacon’s too tired to try and puzzle this one out.

“It’s not the detective that she needs, it’s the understanding.  Daisy gets where she’s coming from, but Nick… Well, Nick woke up here too.  He’s got a more similar backstory, don’t you think?”

Hancock watches Deacon, who tries not to give anything away, but does a poor job of it.  He’s just too worn-down.

“Guessing you don’t know as much about her as you thought,” Hancock points out.

“I have my suspicions, but nothing she’s really confirmed.”

The Mayor nods his head.  “Yeah, most of what I know I guessed by listening to Daisy talk about her.  If she ever decides to tell her story, I have no doubt it’ll be more interesting than we thought.”

“Thanks.” Deacon says, standing up and pretending to tip a hat to the ghoul. 

“You both seem to be good people, hope it works out,” Hancock says, giving Deacon a small wave ‘bye’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****************************************************************
> 
> I don't know if Dez means well or not, but I started not liking her in-game when I couldn't argue with her on some of the missions she gave me. I just wanted the factions (minus The Institute) to work together, but they all just want you to do things without questioning them.


	19. Diamond City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacon finally catches up with Dawn, and meets the famous Commonwealth detective.
> 
> ********************************************************************

“Takahashi!” Deacon exclaims, sitting down next to Dawn.  She doesn’t look up, and doesn’t seem to notice him.

“Nani shimasho ka?” the robot replies.

“What’s the good word today?” Deacon says, pretending to banter with the robotic chef.

“Nani shimasho ka?” Takahashi repeats.

“Really? No, shit.  What happened then?”

The robot gives up repeating itself and moves down the little bar, away from Deacon.

Deacon rests his head in his hands, elbows on the counter.  A soft chuckle gets him to turn his head slightly.

“I think he just wants your order, but I don’t think he’s saying it right.”

“Hi Dawn,” Deacon murmurs, his heart is pounding in his chest.  She’s so close.  He just wants to yell at her for leaving him, and hold her now that he’s found her.  “Heard you’ve traveled The Commonwealth, and came here to visit Nick Valentine.”

“No doubt we have spies here that ratted me out?” she says almost acidly.

Deacon drops his hands and straightens up.  He turns fully to her, and removes his glasses.  He wants her to know how pissed he is right now.  She sees it and flinches back some, her brow furrowing.

“Couldn’t drop a line, Dawn?” he spits out.

She lowers her gaze, and his anger dissipates quickly when a few tears roll down her cheek. 

“Shit,” he mutters.  “Okay,” and he pulls her tight against his chest. 

Dawn wraps her arms around him, digging her hands into his shirt like she’s drowning.  He feels the silent sobs roll through her body.  They stay this way until her breathing evens out.

Deacon pushes her back slightly, keeping one arm around her he lifts her chin up.  Her eyes are full of pain and sorrow.  “I didn’t mean to leave you again,” she whispers.

“Shh.  Don’t worry about it.”  He brushes her hair off of her face, tucking it behind her ear. 

“Dez wasn’t going to tell me, you know?” she adds accusingly.

“Yeah, Glory filled me in on what happened.  Dez told me the rest.”

Dawn stiffens in his hold, her eyes flashing anger.  “I don’t care what her reasoning was.”

“She was out of line, but let’s not discuss that just yet.  Hmm, Hubflower?”

Dawn pulls out of his embrace.  Her eyes are wide; she’s shocked and suspicious.  “I… I thought you didn’t want to call me that,” she stammers.

Deacon chuckles.  “Things change.  I changed.”  He rubs a hand across his forehead, letting out a rough sigh.  He meets her eyes, setting a hand on her leg.  “You scared the hell out of me, can we not go down that road again?”

She scrutinizes him for a moment, then softens her gaze and posture.  She slowly nods.

“Good,” he says, a smile forming on his face, his hand still on her leg.  “I’m hungry.  Treat a guy to a bowl of noodles?”

“You bet.”

“And while we eat, you’ll tell me about your new friend, the detective?”

“No,” Dawn says with a shake of her head.  “but I’ll introduce you to him.”

“Good enough.”

*********

 

Deacon finally lets exhaustion take over as he accepts the synth detective’s offer to pick a bed.  Deacon takes the one by the office, as the upstairs area seems like Nick’s personal space.

Once Deacon is out cold, Nick strikes up a conversation with Dawn.

“You’ve got a good one there.  Not many would travel as much as he did trying to find someone.  If they did, I might be out of a job.”

Nick doesn’t get the response he was hoping for.  Instead of a smile, Dawn hangs her head in shame.  “I should’ve let him know where I was, but…”

“But you were distraught,” Nick finishes for her.  She nods.  “Seems to me he understands that.  Didn’t look like he was holding a grudge the whole time I spoke to him.”

“Thank-you for that.”

“My pleasure, beside you gave me the okay to fill him in on your time here.”

“I know it’s cowardly, but… it’s just easier having someone else talk about me, than trying to find the words myself.”

“I get that, and he seems to get that.  Like I said, you’ve got a good one there.”

*********

 

Deacon wakes up to laughter, and the tail-end of a story.  It seems to be coming from the next room. 

“…Back then synths were even more of an unknown… I told them I was rigged to explode and started going ‘beep’. ‘beep.’ ‘beep.’’  Deacon hears more laughter as he shambles into the light of the office, wincing.  “Hardest part of that rescue was keeping from laughing as they climbed over each other to get away.”

“I’ll have to try that one,” Deacon mutters as all eyes turn to him.  He puts on his patented smile, adding, “I’ll do it the next time I go to town dressed as a Mr. Handy.  If I pull that off I’ll be a legend.”

Nick just shakes his head, but Ellie and Dawn chuckle at the idea. 

“Feeling better?” Valentine asks.

“Much,” Deacon returns.

“Glad to hear it.  Well, I have a case to look into, and Ellie was getting ready to head home.  You two are welcome to stay if you want.”

Dawn shakes her head, “No, I..” she glances at Deacon, then back to Nick.  “I’m ready to get back.  Thank-you for letting me squat here for the last few days.”

“Of course.  Anytime you need help, just come knocking.  And Ellie?  Lock-up?”

“Will do, and be careful out there, Nick,” the secretary admonishes him.

“I always am.  Walk you two out?” he asks Deacon and Dawn.  He leads the way out onto the streets.  Once the door is closed he turns back to them.  “Well it was nice to finally meet The Railroad in the flesh,” he says a bit awed.  “I always figured there had to be some truth to all those spook stories.”

“Looking at getting out of the detective business?” Deacon questions.

“You know… the detective life is a lot less glamorous than the comics had led me to believe, but it’s not something I’m ready to give up yet.”  He smiles at the two of them, “But it’s nice to know there’s actually people out there watching out for synths.  I know I could’ve used The Railroad when I first, let’s say ‘left’ The Institute.”

Dawn nods; a pained smile on her face.  “I’m just glad you were there to help me,” she murmurs.

“Anytime doll,” Nick responds walking off.  “Take good care of each other, and don’t be a stranger.”  He lifts a hand to them, waving over his shoulder as he rounds the corner out of sight.


	20. Bygones and New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the way back from Nick's detective agency, Dawn and Deacon stop tip-toeing around their feelings for each other. 
> 
> *************************************************

“He’s a pretty nice guy,” Deacon says on their walk back to Headquarters.

“Yes, he is,” Dawn replies.  The two of them lull into silence for a bit, which is probably for the best, at least until they are a little further out of enemy territory.  Raiders like to hang around Hangman’s Alley and Back Street Apparel, especially at night.

Once they’re walking along the waterfront, Dawn breaks the silence.  “I know he filled you in on what we talked about, but… I just want to say that I didn’t share anything with Nick that I haven’t told you, and… really I’ve told you more, he’s just a **very** good guesser.”

Deacon chuckles.  “I imagine that’s a handy trait if you’re a detective.”

“You’re right.  He’d make a poor sleuth if he couldn’t deduce anything.”  Dawn’s smile falters, “Otherwise, he just gave me a place to lay low for a bit.”

“I’m not jealous of him.”

“Good.”

“That doesn’t mean we’re ok though,” Deacon warns.

Dawn frowns and nods her head.  “Yeah, I deserve that.”

“You said you didn’t lie to me except for saying you’d stay at May’s.”

“I haven’t,” Dawn protests, meeting his gaze.  “I don’t always share my past, but that’s not lying.”

Deacon drops the serious tone, and instead playfully mocks Dawn.  He’s not looking for a fight, but does want some answers.  “Ah, but I thought you said you didn’t have any sheet music for Magnolia.”

“I don’t,” she insists, still a bit weary that Deacon’s upset with her.

“But when I was in Goodneighbor with Glory, I head a new song that screamed ‘you’ all over it.  So how’d she get it then?”

“I wrote it down,” she admits.

“You composed a song?” Deacon says skeptically.

“Nooo,” Dawn trials off. 

“Then?”

Dawn shrugs.  “An omission on my part?”

“Hmm.  That sounds like a fancy word for ‘lie’,” Deacon muses aloud. 

Dawn sighs, giving up.  “Fine.  I didn’t write it, but I did write it down.  I didn’t look for any sheet music, and I don’t know how to write any either, but I could hum the bars for Magnolia, and give her the lyrics.  She took care of the rest.”

“Alright,” Deacon concedes, going quiet again.

After a few moments, Dawn asks tentatively, “Did you like it?”

They stop walking, and Dawn studies him.  She looks worried about his response, and keeps trying to read his eyes, so Deacon removes his glasses, tucking them into the collar of his shirt. 

“Where’d you hear it that you know all the words?” he asks.

“Are you avoiding my question?”

“Guess you must be rubbing off on me,” Deacon comments.

“Ha ha,” Dawn snarks.

Deacon puts his hands on her upper arms, and leans down a little looking into her eyes.  “Yes, I liked it.  Do I get an answer now?” he whispers.

Dawn involuntary licks her lips, her mouth suddenly dry.  “Yes,” she barely murmurs.  He’s right.  He deserves an answer to at least one of his questions now and then. 

Deacon releases her, and steps back to give her some room.  “Would it help if we continued walking?” he asks.

Dawn only nods.  They continue on their way.  It takes a little over a block for Dawn to find her voice, and decide how to start.

“No riddles this time,” she promises. 

“Good,” Deacon admits.  “The last one lacked a punchline.”

“I just needed to work up to what I wanted to say,” Dawn huffs.  She goes quiet again, while Deacon laughs at her.  Finally she continues, “The song was meant to be a quartet, but I think Magnolia pulls it off by herself.”

“She sounded good.  Got any others?”

“I’ve started a few, but I can’t remember all of the words right now.  The one I gave Magnolia is called ‘Goodnight, Sweetheart, Goodnight.’  I really liked that song,” Dawn drifts off with a hint of melancholy. 

She goes quiet again, and Deacon let’s her be.  He’s not sure if she’ll continue telling him what she was going to, but pushing her won’t get a response.  He could try flirting with her again, he thinks smirking, but dismisses the idea, not wanting to play that card just for intel, at least not with her.  

They’re walking past the Charlie View Amphitheater when Dawn asks if they can go sit down by it.

“Sure thing,” Deacon replies.  They climb over some low fencing, and try not to slide down the incline in the dark.

Once they’re by the amphitheater, Dawn closes her eyes, and takes in a deep breath.  Letting it out, she turns in a small circle, her eyes opening again.  “It’s pretty here under the moon.  Almost reminds me of how it used to look.”

Deacon frowns slightly at her comment, but doesn’t say anything.

“I had other songs for Magnolia.  More than the ones I’m working on, but they’re too fast-paced for her style,” Dawn complains.

“Give the songs to someone else, then.”

“Who?”

Deacon thinks on it for a moment.  He sits down on a nearby bench, pulling Dawn down next to him.  She lets out a squeal of surprise, then laughs at her own reaction.  He smiles at her, and realizes how relaxed he feels having her back in his life.  Her turns her sideways by pulling her legs across his lap.  He looks up at the stars while slowly running a hand back and forth on her shin.  _Gotta keep it_ _PG_ , he thinks to himself.  _Don’t want to start something I’m not ready to finish_.     

“We could start a band,” he suggests, keeping things light.

“What?” Dawn blurts out.

“Yeah,” he turns his head towards her.  “We’ll perform the songs.  The Railroad would be alright without us while we travel around performing.”

“I don’t think so,” Dawn chuckles.  “Dez said you were ‘an important asset’.  I don’t think she’d let you go so easily.”

“I have to go,” Deacon complains, “Otherwise, who’d play the tambourine?  Please tell me there’s a need for a tambourine.”

Dawn laughs at him.  “There isn’t.  I’m sorry.”

“Sure.  Dash my hopes and dreams.  I was even going to suggest the perfect name for our band,” Deacon pouts.

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“Ah, well,” he falters, “You caught me unprepared.  I’ll have to get back to you on the name, but it’ll be amazing.”

Dawn laughs again.  “Uh huh.”

He pinches her leg slightly in retaliation, but doesn’t get more than a raised eyebrow from her.  He glances down, and sighs.  “Wrong leg, huh?”

“Yep,” she nods, and starts laughing even harder at him.

He pushes her legs off of him, pretending to be hurt, but Dawn can’t see past the tears forming in her eyes.  He joins her after a moment.  Once the laughter dies down, and Dawn wipes the tears out of her eyes, she stands up brushing dirt off of the back of her suit.  The benches here aren’t the cleanest they’ve ever been.

“Ready to head back out?” Deacon asks.

“Can we stay a minute more?”

“Sure.  It’s kinda peaceful here, besides,” he comments as they walk closer to the band shell, “there’s not enough of this.”

“What?” Dawn calls back, happily running up the stairs to the stage.

“Truly relaxing in The Commonwealth,” Deacon says, looking up at her.  “You always have to watch your back, even around those close to you.  Life is dangerous here.”

“It can be,” Dawn replies with a shrug, poking around the stage.  She moves closer to Deacon.  “It doesn’t have to be though.”  She drops down to sit on the edge of the stage facing him.  Her face is scrunched up some.  “You don’t want to come up here?”

“No, the view from down here is better.”  Dawn turns red, and she adverts her gaze as a grin spreads across her face.

“Need a hand down?” Deacon offers.

She turns back to him and nods, her throat constricted, and her heart beating hard in anticipation.  He moves directly in front of her and places his hands on her hips, helping her hop down from the stage.  He lets her go right away, but doesn’t back up to give them space.  “You’re such idealist,” he remarks.

She looks up at him, waiting for more.  He smiles gently down at her, but doesn’t move his head any closer or say anything else. 

Disappointment and annoyance start to overtake her nervousness, allowing her to speak up when she otherwise might have stayed quiet.  “No kiss?”

Deacon shakes his head slowly.  She frowns, but before she can talk herself out of it, Dawn puts her hands on his arms for stability, stands slightly on her tiptoes, and quickly plants a chaste kiss on his lips.  She pulls back, her face burning, but he wraps his arms around her before she decides to step away. 

He chuckles at her.  “I’m going to take a big leap here,” he jests, “and guess that you’re into me.”

“No,” she shakes her head, her eyes not meeting his.  “I don’t know how you got to that conclusion, Deacon.”

“Hey,” he says a little briskly, causing her to involuntarily look up.

“What?”

“Just wanted to get your attention without releasing you,” he smirks.

“Why?”

His smile widens for a moment before he bends his head and kisses her back.  He holds her tightly while kissing her, loving the feel of her pressed against him. 

“Well that got the blood pumping,” Deacon mutters.  He sighs and steps back from Dawn.  She stands there shakily, unsure.  “We seem to pick unsafe places to make out,” Deacon continues.

Dawn looks around, confused.  “Still seems safe enough.”  She studies him, wondering what’s running through his mind that he’s trying to push her away again.

“Maybe it’s just me,” Deacon says, “but I prefer to be in an enclosed space with no threat of Raiders, Mirelurks, or Super Mutants nearby.”

“Spoil sport,” Dawn grumbles wanting to touch him again.  She steps forward, but he counters by stepping back, slightly shaking his head.

“Tell you what.  As soon as we get back home, or as close to a home as we’ve got, I’ll give you that gift I promised you at your party.”  He hopes she takes the hint that nothing is going to happen here.  _Got to stop kissing her then you idiot_ , he chastises himself.

Dawn lets out a small huff, and decides to try again since Deacon seems to be backpedaling.  Her expression turns sly, “What kind of gift?” she murmurs, running a hand across his chest.

She moves a half-step closer.  He captures her hand, holding it over his heart.  He tries to resist the urge, but after a brief pause, decides to give in.  Running a hand into Dawn’s hair he pulls her in for another kiss.

_I really should stop fighting this_ , he thinks as his tongue brushes hers.  _Life is short, right?_

Dawn feels Deacon’s heart hammering under her hand, and is sure hers is doing the same.  He deepens the kiss, and moves a hand down to her waist pressing her harder against him.  And just when she thinks things might actually progress, he pulls back again.

“I’m sorry,” he huffs, trying to catch his breath, and slow his hormones down.  “I just can’t.” 

He seems pained, but Dawn feels that she deserves at least something of an actual reason.  “Because?” she insists.

“Because I don’t feel comfortable,” Deacon replies, putting more space between them.

She feels guilty pressuring him, but she lets instinct and not reason take over.  “Because of your wife?” she pushes.

Deacon freezes and looks at her.  He doesn’t seem upset, just surprised.  “More gossip from the rumor mill?” he teases.

Dawn frowns, her hands jammed in her pockets, her face burns with shame.  She really stuck her foot in her mouth this time.  “Sorry.  I.. that was uncalled for.  ‘No means no’, I know that,” she mutters.

Deacon chuckles, and places a hand on her cheek.  “It’s not about Barbara, or me not wanting you, Hubflower.”  Her eyes meet his, and he lets out a frustrated breath.  “I’m sorry, I really do have a thing about being in open spaces and not having a line of sight on… well on anything.  It’s hard to watch for enemies when you’re sucking face.”

Dawn snorts out a laugh.  All tension and frustration disappearing as her laughter peters out.  “Okay.  Fair enough.  I am sorry, though.  I shouldn’t have pushed.”  She looks at the ground, mentally kicking herself.  She’s lucky Deacon’s letting it go.  She’s not so sure she would’ve dropped it so easily if roles were reversed.

Deacon drapes an arm around Dawn, causing her to look at him uncertainty.  “No hard feelings,” he says as they leave the amphitheater.  “But, let’s just try to stay a little under cover on the way back.”

Nodding, Dawn remarks, “It’s dark out, as long as we’re quiet, I’ll think we’ll be okay.”

“Ah, the cover of night.  My dear friend, but the silence…  Ugh.  I hate the silence,” Deacon complains.  “Fine, but I’m humming show tunes under my breath.”


	21. Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacon and Dawn return to Headquarters, and he finally gives her the gift from Daisy.
> 
> *******************************************************

Deacon and Dawn stroll into Headquarters, not touching but very close to each other.  It’s quiet as most of the agents are sleeping.  Glory and two others are up, patrolling, clearly on watch duty tonight.

Glory stops when she sees them, a shocked look on her face that quickly dissolves into a grin.  The pair stop as she makes her way over.

“Well, look who’s back,” Glory says, pulling Dawn into a hug.  Dawn awkwardly returns it, and Glory releases her. Knowing her friends aren’t really huggers, she claps Deacon on the arm instead, beaming a smile at him.  “Wasn’t sure you’d be able to find her, let alone bring her back.  Glad you did both.”

“It was touch and go for a while,” he admits, “but it didn’t take much convincing to make her return.”

“I’m still not a fan of Desdemona’s” Dawn grumbles.

“Yeah, I get that,” Glory remarks.  “Anyways, I’m really glad you two are back.  Selfishly, this means we have extra hands so I can take a few days off, but personally, I was just worried about you.”

Guilt eats at Dawn as she apologies to Glory.  “It wasn’t personal, but… I’m still sorry for taking off like I did.”

“We’re good, but next time…” Glory glances at Deacon, then fixes her gaze on Dawn, “…next time, let him know.  Hmm?”

Dawn flicks her eyes towards Deacon, her face red with shame, then meets Glory’s eyes, and simply nods.

“Alright,” Glory says, softening her tone.  “Get some rest, you two look a little beat.”

“Night,” they reply in unison.

As they pass by the lockers, Deacon stops.  “Would you like your gift now?”

“Okay,” Dawn answers timidly.

Deacon smiles, and unlocks his locker.  He reaches in, grabbing something wrapped in an old cloth.  Dawn notices it was between a few books he has.  “So you really do read?” she asks him.

“Of course.  You didn’t believe me?”

“You’ve mention comic books and Proust, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen you with a book.”  She levels a gaze at him, remembering that he’s accused her of the same thing.   

Deacon chuckles.  “Here, just open this first.”

“Alright.”  Dawn takes the package from Deacon, and slowly peels the cloth back.  Her eyes immediately shoot up to his full of wonder.

He puts his hands up in surrender.  “Now, I can’t take the credit for finding that.  That’s on Daisy, but I am delivering it to you.”

Dawn looks back at the book she’s holding.  She turns it over in her hands; Deacon slips the cloth from her grasp.  The front cover hasn’t fared well, and the back isn’t much better.  Most of the words have worn off, but flipping through the inside shows that it seems to have held up well, considering. 

“When did she give this to you?” she whispers, still shocked at what she’s holding.  The word “Rebecca” is barely legible down the spine. 

“Two months ago,” he replies.  “When you asked me to take the letter to her.”

Dawn looks up, uncertainty in her eyes.  “Why am I just getting this now?”

“Besides the fact that I’ve been tracking you all over the place?” Deacon says with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, besides that,” Dawn mumbles, a frown forming.

He shrugs, looking away.  “I wanted to read it first.  See what the big deal was.”

“And?” she asks tentatively, “Did you like it?”

“Actually, I did.  What’s not to like?  Murder, romance, mystery.”

Dawn nods, looking at the gift again.  “That’s why it’s one of my favorites.  Rebecca was a nice girl.  I don’t know why the staff didn’t like her.”

“Trying to catch me in a lie?” he chastises her. 

“Yes,” Dawn answers with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

Deacon takes the book from her, letting his fingers lightly rub against hers.  Her cheeks redden as she watches him.  He flips thru a few pages.  “I think Maximilian waited too long to ease his wife’s worries, but in his defense, he didn’t notice how unhappy she was.  It worked out for them in the end, though, so that has to count for something.”  He looks up, meeting her eyes.  They’re so full of awe. 

 _He really did read it_ , she thinks.

He hands the book back to her.  “At least now I can tell Daisy I gave this to you, maybe she’ll forgive me for giving her a hard time.”

“When did you do that?”

“When I was trying to find you.”

“Oh.”  Her eyes are downcast.  Deacon doesn’t want to keep bringing up her leaving, but he does want her to know it hurt him; and to know what it cost him.

Dawn looks back up at him.  There are tears in her eyes, but a soft smile on her face.  He sees her chin tremble, and waits for the tears to fall, but they don’t.  Instead she surprises him by wrapping him in a tight embrace. 

“Thank-you, Deacon,” Dawn chokes out, her throat tight with emotion.


	22. Unofficially Official

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (a shorter chapter)
> 
> Now that Dawn is back, Deacon doesn't hide the fact that they're an item. But that doesn't mean he offers any details either. 
> 
> ******************************************************************

Dawn wakes up to the smell of food cooking.  It smells like Mirelurk stew, but she’s not entirely sure.  Either way a grumble from her stomach reminds her that she hasn’t eaten since yesterday, when she bought Deacon and herself a cup of noodles from Takahashi.

She rolls over stealing the covers from a grumbling Deacon.  She smiles at him as he blindly reaches for the blanket.  Dawn scoots a little out of the way causing Deacon to crack open an eye.  “Smells like breakfast,” she comments.

Deacon closes his eye, and sniffs the air.  “Mmm.. Mirelurk goo.  Anyone else hungry?” he quips, sitting up.  He reaches for his shoes and shades, which Dawn hands him.  “Meet me back here in 5?” he asks.  She nods.  “Good, just let me go freshen up.”  He places a kiss on her cheek as he gets up to leave.  Her chest tightens, and her cheeks warm at the small gesture.

Closer to ten minutes later, they’re both looking more awake, and cleaned up.  “Shall we?” Deacon asks.

As they walk down the hallway, Deacon abruptly throws an arm over Dawn’s shoulder, pulling her closer.  She doesn’t know why, until she sees Desdemona strolling towards them.  Dawn’s heart picks up speed as her anxiety level climbs.  She wasn’t prepared to encounter Dez so soon.

They stop when she nears, and Dez clears her throat.  Dawn, meanwhile, tries to get out from under Deacon’s arm, but he grips her tighter, halting her progress.  “Morning,” he warmly greets his boss.  He knows he’s not helping matters right now, but he wants to see where this goes.

“Glad to see you two lovebirds are back.  Perhaps we can get some work done now?” Desdemona questions them.

“Ready and willing, just let me know what you need done,” Deacon all but preens.  Dawn rolls her eyes, but says nothing.

“And what about you?” Dez asks Dawn, who averts her gaze, her eyes narrowed.  “Look, you have every right to be angry, but we have to move on.  There are some things bigger than us.”

Dawn lets some of her hostility fade.  She’s right; they don’t have to like each other to work together. 

Deacon stands quietly by waiting to see what Dawn decides.  He’s not ready to leave The Railroad, but could understand if she did.  And they’d make it work, if he had his way.  It’s not like they don’t currently go days without seeing each other.

Finally Dawn’s eyes meet Dez’s.  “I’m ready for another assignment,” she states flatly.

“Good,” Desdemona nods.  “I’m relieved to hear you say that.  Report to P.A.M.  She’ll give you your next mission.”  Dez starts to walk away, but stops and turns back.  “Oh, and I’m sure this goes without saying, but being as we live in such close quarters, you’ll understand why I ask you to keep any.. ‘night-time activities’ outside of Headquarters, hmm?”

“We haven’t…” Dawn starts to sputter, but Deacon cuts her off with a quick squeeze around her shoulders.

“You got it.  Keeping it professional.”

Dez studies them for a moment.  “Right,” she says, then turns and leaves.

As soon as she’s out of earshot Dawn turns on Deacon who drops his arm from her.  “What was that??”

“What?” he shrugs.  “Why take all the mystery and suspense out of it?  Let them guess.”

“You’re an ass,” Dawn complains halfheartedly.

Deacon chuckles at her as he steers her towards the cooking stations.  “No argument here.”

*********

 

Dawn eats quickly mindful of all the whispers and stares she and Deacon are receiving. 

“I’m going to go see P.A.M,” she says quietly, setting her spoon down.

“The awkward silence and tension getting to you?”  Dawn nods her head.  “Leave your bowl, I’ll take it for you.  Meet up with you in a minute?”

“Sure,” she answers getting up and leaving.

As soon as Dawn’s exits the room, Tinker Tom slips into her spot.  Deacon looks up at him, an amused expression on his face.  “Hey Tinker.  What’s the word?”

“Word is you found Dawn, and now you two are an item.  Where was she?”

Deacon sits back a bit, kind of enjoying being the center of attention.  He doesn’t mind all the eyes on him right now.  “That.  Is an interesting story.  But, it’s one I’ll have to save for another day.  Sorry, Tom.  My job is gathering intel, not spilling it.”  He gathers up the dishes, strolling away with a grin.

“That’s not right, you know!  We’re supposed to be pals,” Tinker calls after him.

*********

 

“Mission details commencing,” P.A.M. informs Dawn as Deacon wanders in.  “Pacify the target location.  Fortify the position to protect current and future assets.”

“Where’s the location?” Deacon asks.

Dawn shows him the small slip of paper in her hand with the coordinates.

“Who’s going?”

“Just me and Maven,” Dawn replies.

“Seriously?” Deacon asks.  “C’mon, P.A.M, what about me?  It’s like you don’t trust me.”

“Affirmative,” P.A.M responds.  “Assigning Agent Deacon this mission has an unacceptable margin of error.”

“Ouch.  You really know how to hurt a guy.”

Dawn laughs at him.  “Sure, mock my pain.”  He kisses her temple, startling her.  “Alright, but be careful, and come back in one piece.”

“I will.”


	23. Switchboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer to the start of the game; about a year & a half to go.
> 
> The Railroad finally moves to Switchboard, which is a bit of a change for everyone.
> 
> *************************************

Dawn comes back to Headquarters anxious for some quality time with Deacon, but as soon as she and Maven enter, they are greeted by a flurry of agents moving around, all carrying things.  Dawn’s first thought is that they need to clear out of here in a hurry, but after a moment she realizes that, while everyone seems a little rushed, they appear more excited than anything else.

“Wonder what we missed,” Maven comments before walking away to find out what’s going on.

Dawn just stays where she is while people continue their tasks.  It reminds her of when she’d sit outside watching the bees go in and out of their hives.  She misses that.

“Oh, hey, you’re back,” Glory remarks coming over.

“Yeah, just now.”

“Good.  We could use a hand dismantling some of Tinker’s projects.  He trusts you, and I trust that you won’t get shocked if you’re careful, and if use that cybernetic arm of yours.”

Dawn follows Glory over to Tinker Tom’s area.  Tinker’s currently busy hovering over another agent.  “Watch that,” he begs.  “That took me a long time to… oh… okay.  Here!  Hand me that.”

“He’s a bit frazzled if you can’t tell,” Glory whispers.  Dawn only chuckles at the scene.

“Hey, help me with this before he notices,” Glory nudges her.

“Where’s Deacon?” Dawn asks as they start removing wires from the back of a modified computer. 

“Out on a mission still.”

“Does he know we’re moving?  That is what we’re doing, yes?”

Glory pauses for a second, her face briefly confused.  “Oh, yeah, you’ve been gone for a while.”

“I was only gone for two days, Glory.”

“No, I mean before, when Deacon and I were looking for you.”

Dawn stops what she’s doing.  “You looked too?”

Glory shrugs.  “Of course.  I couldn’t let him look alone.  Though, he only let me tag along for about a week.”

“I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine, just… I told you before, if you leave again, let him know.  I don’t want to see him like that again.”

Dawn agrees somberly, and they finish their task in relative silence.

“Uh, let’s put this is that crate there,” Glory says.  Dawn helps her lift the monitor and pack it up, placing the wires in with it.

“Where are we going?”

Glory chuckles.  “So get this.  P.A.M. actually used to be at the bunker we’re going to.  Guess the place was used by the Defense Intelligence Agency, and it was hidden under an old Slocum’s Joe.  Someone said they used to sell donuts.  Don’t know what that is except some kind of sweet.”

“How far away is it?”

“That part sucks.  We’re going to be quite a ways away from anybody else.  Hopefully that means less eyes to know what we’re doing.”

“But it also means it’ll be harder to get supplies,” Dawn grumbles.

“Yeah, there’s that.”

********* 

 

P.A.M., Dez, Tinker Tom and Doc Carrington form a skeleton crew at the new Headquarters, dubbed “Switchboard”.   The other agents come and go in small groups or alone, and always under cover of night.  They help clear out rubble, and set up all necessary equipment.  Slowly things get moved over. 

Dawn gets very little rest as she is one of the main people to go back and forth.  Her cybernetics allow her to see in the dark and carry a little more weight than the average agent.  Deacon and Glory are also tasked with transporting and escorting back and forth for much the same reasons.

A different route is taken each time, which can make the travel extra-long and tedious.  A few weeks pass before Dawn can even take a full tour of The Switchboard.

She arrives early one morning with a backpack of ammo and a duffle bag of weapons.  She gently drops them to the floor as Maven comes over with a yawn.

“Night shift?” Dawn asks.

“Yeah,” Maven answers, picking up one of the bags. 

“I left a few dead mole rats in the other room, if anyone wants to take those to the cooking stations.”

“I’ve got it.  Just let me put this away first.”

“Thanks.”  Dawn wanders off, not really sure where she’s going.  She’s never been too far into the compound.  Any rest she’s gotten has been at the old Headquarters or on the road.  She lets out a big yawn as she stumbles along the corridors.

“Wow!” she breathes out.  “This place is a maze.”

“Yeah,” a voice replies, making Dawn jump.  She relaxes after a moment, seeing that it’s just Deacon.  He’s leaning against a wall. 

A huge grin spreads across her face as he pushes off the wall and moves closer.  “All this space means that we finally get a little to ourselves.  The rumor is that everyone gets to have a room of their own.”

“Oh,” is all she can think to say as he brushes a few fingers against her cheek.

“Hi, Dawn,” he mummers.  Her heart starts beating faster as she watches him with large doe-like eyes.

“Hi,” she replies after a moment, her gaze faltering as her nerves get the best of her.  Deacon tilts her chin slightly up, and presses his lips to hers.  He pulls away, but only a little.  “Like two ships passing in the night,” he quotes.

Her brow furrows a little.  “You’re leaving?”

“Just for a few hours.  I should be back by the time you start to rouse.”  He places another kiss on her lips.  “Just keep going down this hall,” he tells her, “fifth door on the right.  Get some sleep, hmm?”

“Ok,” she agrees watching him walk off.

********

 

Returning back to Switchboard, Deacon opens the door to his room.  “How inviting,” he comments. 

Dawn stirs on the mattress.  “Hmm?” she asks.

Staying in the doorway, he continues, “How’d I get so lucky to have someone in my bed?”

“Your bed?” Dawn says sitting up, confusion marring her features.

“Yeah, of course,” he replies with a smirk.

“Well, then you could join me,” Dawn remarks, emboldened by the fact that she’s not fully awake yet.

Deacon softly chuckles.  “A very tempting offer, but there are a lot of eyes and ears around right now.”

Dawn sighs, falling back onto the mattress.  “Then can I go back to sleep?”

“Nope.”  Deacon crosses the small room leaving the door open.  He stands over Dawn with a hand outstretched.  She looks up at him, and after a moment of hesitation takes it.  He pulls her up, and pulls her close.  He kisses her, and someone clears their throat nearby.  They pull away, but slowly.

“Is this what you meant by ‘keeping it professional’?” Dez questions from the entrance way. 

“Hey,” Deacon retorts, “all hands were above the waist and over the clothes.”

“Mmm hmm,” Desdemona comments.  “If you two are done, I suggest you get something to eat, lunch is ready.  When you’re done, come find me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *********************************************************************
> 
> Don't worry, eventually Deacon and Dawn will get some alone time. It's funny, though. You'd think with less people, there'd be less prying eyes, but not for these two. Trying to find time to be alone in a post-apocalyptic world is hard. :)


	24. Making the Commonwealth Safer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dez sends some agents to clear out the Gunners that have taken over a Railroad route. 
> 
>  
> 
> ***********************************************************

“I don’t know if it’s wise to send you two out on a mission together, but being as you won’t be alone, and you two get me results, I’d be stupid not to.”  Dez watches Dawn and Deacon, but they just stand there waiting for their assignment.

“Alright,” she says after a moment.  “We have some gunners that have moved into one of our pipelines.  We’ve tried circumventing the area, but the outer areas are even worse.  If we could clear them out, it’d give us a more direct route that, in the long run, is a hell of a lot safer.”

“How many of us are going?” Deacon asks.

“Five of you.”

“That bad?’ he questions.

“Yes.  They’ve already killed two agents from another base, wounded one other, and took out two synths we were relocating.  I need them gone.”

“It’s going to be one hell of a firefight from the sounds of it.”

“Probably,” Dez agrees.  “Make sure you stop by Tinker Tom’s and stock up.  I’m counting on you.”

*********

 

“Alright,” Glory says, taking the lead.  “We’re pretty close to the area.  I think it’s best if we split up and circle around.  Try to take as many out as you can, and move towards the center.  Stay safe, and if we do this right, it should be quick but bloody.  Let’s hope the causalities are all on their side.”

Everyone moves away to flank around the encampment.  Dawn follows one of the agents.  He seems a little unsure, though she’s heard he’s done well in the field. 

“First time against Gunners?” she whispers.

The other agent nods.

“Let me go first then.  I don’t mind.”  The other agent pauses allowing Dawn to go ahead.  He stops after a bit and Dawn tries to give him an encouraging smile before heading further along to her point. 

There are no perimeter fences that she sees, and she can hear the Gunners, but not see them.  She goes down an alley peeking at the road ahead.  No one’s there, but the voices are a little louder.  She scans the area, but nothing picks up.  She moves forward another block, then abruptly stops.  She knows where they are now, in the tall buildings right in front of her.  _Well, there goes the element of surprise_ , she thinks.  _They’ll either see or hear us coming if we have to come from below._

She ducks down trying to be stealthy and heads for a hole in the wall of one of the buildings.  _So far, so good._   She moves slowly through this floor, standing back up.  It’s easier to keep from bumping into things if she’s not crouched down.  She keeps scanning the area as she goes.

She’s just heading up to the second floor when she hears gunfire from the building next door.  She peers out of a nearby window trying to see who’s firing, but a voice rings out letting her know exactly who it is.

“Missed one, you cocky bastard!” Deacon yells.  “I’ve got a care package for you!” he adds, followed by a small explosion. 

Dawn turns away from the window with a smirk, continuing her floor by floor sweep.  On the 4th floor she finally runs into an opponent.  Thankfully she sees him first, and takes him out with two shots.  The noise, however, brings his buddies.  Dawn manages to take out the next few with minimal damage, though she does need to use up a stimpak in the process.

She loots what she can and moves up to the next floor.  She’s hit from behind as soon as she gets onto the landing.  She grunts at the pain and turns around.  Before she can get her weapon up, she’s hit again. 

“I hope you like the sight of your own blood!” the woman yells.

Dawn narrows her gaze, pissed that she didn’t see the enemy first.  She’s normally better than this. 

The Gunner starts to swing her laser rifle down again, but Dawn moves just enough to avoid the blow and shoots the woman right in the chest.  She goes down quickly. 

Dawn stands over her, breathing heavily for a moment.  Her vision is a little blurry.  She reaches up, touching along her hairline and brings away fingers sticky with blood.  She stands there waiting for her vision to clear.  After a minute or so, she feels better, but hates that she has to use another stimpak.  She only has three left now.

Dawn loots the woman as the stimpak takes effect.  She leaves the laser rifle, but takes the fusion cells for her institute laser, grabs the caps the woman had, and a piece of modified armor.

Looking around, this seems to be the last floor she can access, but there’s scaffolding leading to the next building.  Dawn carefully makes her way across, and drops down onto a ledge on the outside of the building. 

“Maybe we should stay away from the ledges here?  That’d be good,” a voice softly calls right below her. 

Dawn looks down, she knows it’s Deacon, but doesn’t see him right away, then she notices him watching her.  He’s one floor below her, safely inside the structure. 

“Tell me how to get down there, and I’ll do as you ask,” Dawn replies.

“Just over here.”  Deacon points to a ladder a little ways away.  Once Dawn is down next to him, Deacon turns to head back into the room he was checking out, but Dawn stops him.

“You okay?” she quietly asks.  He sounded worried before.

“Are **_you_** okay?” he asks noticing the blood on her forehead.

“A gunner hit me, but the stimpak took care of the damage.  Can we talk about the nervous looks you were giving me while I was outside?”

Deacon lets out a shaky chuckle.  “Is now a good time to mention I don’t like heights?  Cuz, you know the ground’s a pretty sensible place to be, right?”

Dawn only smiles at him, but there’s a gleam in her eyes.

“This is going to come back to bite me, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” she chuckles, moving past him.

He groans, following her.  “You know, it’s perfectly normal to be afraid of something,” Deacon huffs, keeping his voice low.

“I know,” she agrees, a grin on her face.

They manage to take down another five Gunners in this building before moving onto the next.  They hear gunfire above them, and Glory yelling something vaguely threatening.

“I hope she’s giving them hell,” Deacon comments.

This seems to be the last building to clear out.  Since Glory’s upstairs they head into a small basement area.  Inside they find a few corpses which appear to have been drifters.

“Poor bastards,” Deacon mutters as Dawn looks around the room.  She grabs a few things off a table.  Deacon can’t help himself, seeing that Dawn is already carrying more than she should.  “Remember,” he points out sarcastically, “fill your pockets with all the goodies.  Then we can slowly crawl out of here.”

Dawn turns and sneers at him, then grabs one more item just to get the final dig in.

“I could, I guess, carry some of that for you,” Deacon murmurs as they walk back upstairs to the main floor.

“Nope.  I got it,” she insists as he watches her struggle a little.

Deacon raises an eyebrow at her, but leaves her be.

“Seems we got them all,” Glory remarks as Dawn and Deacon reach the landing.

“Good,” Deacon says looking around at the dead bodies.  “Do you ever just feel sorry for the poor bastards that fight us?”

“Not really,” Dawn answers, putting some of her loot in one of the filing cabinets nearby.

“Not even a little?” Deacon asks.  “I mean, they don’t even stand a chance against us.”

“Ha.  You know it,” Glory preens.

“Maybe we should do one more sweep of the area before setting up camp,” Deacon suggests.

“Yeah, alright,” Glory agrees.  “Then we can decide on shifts for the night.  We want to make sure no one comes back, trying to retake the area.”

“Where’s Annie?” Dawn asks.

“Mmm.  She didn’t make it.  I found her body at the bottom of the stairs just a floor above here,” Glory states sadly.

“Damn.  Then I vote we do not use this building as our base of operations,” Deacon mutters.

“Agreed,” the other agent adds, as he wanders over.

“Okay,” Deacon says breaking the melancholy mood.  “Let’s do a sweep, meet back here, eat, and lick our wounds.”

*********

 

The sweep reveals that no gunners were missed. 

Minus the building with the dead agent inside, there are three other buildings to choose from.  They end up choosing the one that offers the best view of this section of town.  Camp is set up on the third floor as Deacon doesn’t really want to go any higher.

Dawn playfully picks on him about his choice.

“We’ve got a good enough vantage point here,” he points out.  “We’ll be able to pick off anyone we see coming.”

“Touché,” she concedes with a soft smile.

“While we wait for the food to cook, we should pick shifts,” Glory suggests.  “I can take first shift, unless someone else wants it.”

“I call second,” Deacon says, turning the meat on the spit.

“Third,” Dawn offers, leaving the other agent for last, who doesn't protest.

“Glad we got that out of the way,” Glory states.

They all sit back quietly waiting for the meal to be ready.

********

 

“You know, I do like long, lazy, dull days, right?” Deacon comments as they finish eating.  “Let’s hope tonight is uneventful.”

Glory stands up stretching.  “It is nice to just sit and relax.  Too bad it never lasts long.”

“Yeah,” Deacon agrees, getting up.  “Ok, time for some shut eye.  Wake me when you’re ready to switch, Glory.”

“You got it.”


	25. A Moment to Ourselves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn and Deacon get a little alone time, but they still aren't completely by themselves. Glory decides to help out with that the next day.
> 
> Bonus pictures I drew at the end. (Don't worry if that's not how you pictured Dawn, I change my mind all the time on how she looks, which is why I don't describe her in much detail.)
> 
>  
> 
> ******************************************************************

Dawn wakes up, throwing off some of the blankets they had gathered together.  She didn’t trust laying directly on any of these mattresses. 

She sees the light flicker from the room next door.  Getting up, she wanders in and plops down on the lounge chair facing Deacon, who’s sitting on a ratty couch.

“You changed,” he states, seeing her in a pair of capris.

She sleepily looks down, nodding.  “Yeah, I don’t wear my vault suit 24/7 you know.”

“Don’t you?”

The light from the oil lamp casts a warm glow over them.  Dawn chuckles, yawning.  “Not lately, and usually not to bed.”

“Getting comfortable around us, or just me?” he asks with a slow grin.

Her eyes wander over him briefly, then go to his face where she can see her reflection in his sunglasses.  She lingers there for a moment, then averts her gaze, her cheeks warm.  She shrugs not saying anything.

Deacon exhales, getting up to look out the windows.  He watches the ground below for any movement.  “Your shift’s not for another hour or so.”

“I’m not tired,” Dawn whispers, her eyes following his form as he moves around the room.

After checking out of all of the windows, Deacon sits back down.  “Tell me a story to help pass the time,” he suggests.

“Me?  Why don’t you tell me a story?”

“I’ll tell you all the stories you want back at Switchboard.”

“But not here?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Prying eyes and ears,” Deacon states nodding his head towards the other room.

Dawn huffs, “I see why my silence bothers you sometimes.”

Deacon softly chuckles at her, mindful of the two sleeping a few yards away.  “Well?” he whispers.

Dawn looks around the room biding her time.  After a moment she groans.  “Fine.  What kind of story do you want to hear?”  She’s not sure if she knows any off of the top of her head so she hopes he picks something easy.  He doesn’t.

Deacon leans forward, a sly grin on his face.  “Tell me the story of this leg,” he says grabbing the edge of her chair to pull it closer to him. 

“Oh, uh…” Dawn mumbles.

Deacon picks up her right leg, and sets it on his lap with her foot by his hip.  She sits up straight with her leg extended out; surprised by his action.  He looks down and rubs his hand up her calf.  Her cybernetics are almost completely exposed in the capris she has on, her feet are bare.

“I… uh.  Can we not talk about how I got it?”

“Sure.  I have other questions anyways.”

“Like?” she asks uncertainly.  She leans back a little in her chair, the gentle ministrations of Deacon’s hand helping her relax.   

“Like… do you have something similar to nerves in this thing?” he asks.  He slides his hand further up, his fingers dipping under the fabric of her pants, right below her knee.  Her eyes are locked on his hand, while his are on her face, watching her reactions.

She doesn’t answer, but does nod.

“Okay.  Next question.  How far up does this… ‘modification’ go?”

Dawn’s eyes shoot to his, still covered by his shades.  Her eyes are wide, and she opens her mouth a little to say something, but closes it again, taking in a sharp breath as he slides his hand a little higher.  She bites her lip involuntarily, her fingers curling into the fabric of her chair.  She leans back a bit more whether to pull away or give him more access he doesn’t ask, but he does take advantage of it.  He moves his hand completely into her pant leg, his wrist on her knee. 

Dawn closes her eyes as Deacon gently explores.  He feels the scar tissue right above her knee where her flesh starts.  Her skin is soft and warm under his fingers.  He wants to keep moving up, but Glory and Roger ( _Is that his name?)_ are too close for comfort.  Instead he reaches forward with his other arm.  Dawn’s eyes open to watch him. 

He slides his right hand slightly under her and pulls her towards him.  She half-stands for a split second on one leg before sliding onto Deacon’s lap.  He helps pull her left leg onto the couch so that he supports her weight on his legs.  His left hand still latched onto her right thigh.

Dawn starts to slide a bit towards his hips so he straightens out his legs slightly to keep her level.  Deacon’s trying to maintain some control.  Having Dawn sitting right over his slowly growing erection is the exact opposite of that.  And he’d never live it down if Glory walked in on him having sex, especially while he’s supposed to be keeping watch.  

“And your arm?” he softly asks.

“Uh… yeah,” Dawn starts to reply as Deacon picks her left arm up planting a gentle kiss on the sensitive underside of her forearm. 

Deacon glances up at her as he softly peppers her arm with light kisses.  “So you can feel this?” 

Dawn tries to make her mouth work, and manages on the second try.  “Umm... more than what I feel on my leg.”

He turns his attention back to her leg, rubbing his hand back down to her calf.

“I only feel pressure there,” she breathes out.  “I… I can tell I’m being touched, but it neither hurts, nor feels good,” she trails off with a blush.

“But you feel everything on your arm?”

She nods.  “It’s not exactly liked being touched, but it’s really close,” she breathes out.

“Good to know,” Deacon says as he places one more kiss on her arm.

He pulls back a bit.  “So, why don’t you have synthetic skin on your leg?”

Dawn chuckles, and looks at her leg.  Deacon follows her gaze as she flexes her foot.  “You don’t like the futuristic look?” she questions.

“I like it if you do,” Deacon replies.

She looks at him, an eyebrow raised.  “Trying to score points?”

“You know me, always working the angle,” he jests setting his glasses down next to him.  He then moves his hands to her hips, tightening his grip for a moment, eliciting a soft gasp from her. 

Deacon’s dark blue eyes meet Dawn’s bright blue ones and he leans in for a kiss.

*********

 

“So,” Glory speaks up, “did you two actually watch for enemies or did you just make-out all night long?”

Dawn stumbles a little, but manages to stay upright.  Her and Glory are walking the perimeter this morning; checking the other buildings to make sure no one snuck in last night.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dawn mutters.

“Hmm mmm.  You do remember that I don’t need as much sleep as you humans, right?”  She watches a dark blush spread across Dawn’s cheeks.  Chuckling, she adds, “Well, at least you two kept it down.  Is it still safe to sit on that couch?”

Dawn abruptly turns to Glory, freezing in her gait.  “Of course!”

“Geez,” Glory states throwing up her hands.  “I’m only teasing you.”

They start walking again.  “Sorry,” Dawn mutters.  “It’s just that everyone keeps assuming we’ve already…”  Dawn sighs.  “But we haven’t.”

“Hey, no worries.  You two just need to find some place to be alone.  Blow off some stream.  All this tension isn’t good for anybody.”

Dawn keeps her eyes averted, scanning for enemies she’s pretty sure aren’t there, but it’s a good distraction.  “It’s hard when Desdemona makes sure we’re rarely alone,” Dawn grumbles.

“Just tell Deacon that’s what you want.  He’ll make it happen.”

“I… I can’t tell him that," Dawn says with a little shake of her head.

“Sure you can.  He’ll listen.”

“That’s not the problem, Glory.  I can’t…  I’m not brave enough to bring that up.”

Glory laughs a little at her friend’s discomfort.  “Okay.  Look, how about I bring it up to him?”

Dawn stumbles again, shocked at the suggestion.  This time she almost goes down, but Glory grabs her arm helping her find her feet again.  “I can’t ask you to do that,” Dawn replies, embarrassed by her reaction; nervousness pumping through her veins.

“Hey, stop stressing so much.  This is what friends are for.  And if I remember correctly, I’m friends with both of you, so let me help.”

Dawn softly growls, but doesn’t say anything more on the subject.  “Let’s just finish our patrol.”

*********

 

Dawn and Roger head out for a few hours to sell some of the loot they had gathered, leaving Glory and Deacon to hold down the fort.

“Your girl wants some alone time with you,” Glory states matter-of-factly.

“She said that?” Deacon says, trying to cover his surprise with a cough.

Glory raises an eyebrow.  She has a smile on her face, “No, she didn’t.”

“And here I thought she changed overnight,” Deacon jests.  “Alright, let's hear it.  What’d she really say?”

“She doesn’t have to say anything,” Glory retorts.  “It’s clear to everyone that’s what she wants, but since she’s unlikely to tell you, I’m telling you.”

“Oh, well, we’ll just pop off for a secret rendezvous somewhere.  No one will even know we’re missing.”

“I want to think you’re being serious, but it’s hard to tell.”

“Joking.  It’s not like there’s anywhere around here to go.”

“Then it’s a good thing I already have a plan.”

“Really?” Deacon asks uncertainly.  It’s not that he hasn’t thought of being alone with Dawn, but that doesn’t mean the idea doesn’t scare him a little.  How long has it been since he’s been in a relationship, let alone an intimate relationship?  He’s kind of liked the excuse of other people around.  It’s kept him from rushing into anything.

“Yes, really,” Glory answers, breaking into Deacon’s thoughts.  “Roger and I will clear out of here later this evening.  We’ll let Dez know that the area’s safe and secure.  I’m sure she’ll want to set up some regular patrols or something similar.  You two stay behind for another day, and let the safe house know the route's open again.”

Deacon scoffs.  “You really do have a plan.  Okay,” he agrees, his heart beating a trifle faster, both due to nerves and anticipation.

 

 

 

           


	26. Finally Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay... Finally Dawn and Deacon get some alone time.  
> This chapter is NSFW/ smutty, and was a huuugggee mental roadblock for me, which is why I haven't posted in weeks. I have written, and rewritten this chapter several times.  
> I don't know why, but every time I tried to work on it, I felt either nervous, or that I was forcing the words, but this chapter is long overdue in their relationship.  
> I'm pretty sure I blushed most of the time I wrote this as writing smut doesn't come naturally to me, but here you go.  
> Let me know what you think (good/ bad/ indifferent), but be gentle.  
> Hopefully the next few chapters will come quicker now :)  
> ****************************************************************************************

“You’re leaving?” Dawn asks Glory apprehensively, watching her pack up.

“Don’t worry.  You’ll be fine.  You’re in good hands,” Glory quips.

Dawn frowns. 

Glory slings her bag over her shoulder, and places a reassuring hand on her friend.  “Relax.  Enjoy some time alone.  And don’t let him talk you into playing checkers.”

Dawn rolls her eyes, and cracks a smile at Glory’s joke.

“Okay,” Glory says, “we’re off.  You ready, Roger?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.  Well, we’ll see you two in a few days.  Don’t forget to let the safe house know it’s all clear here, and,” Glory adds, leaning in towards Dawn, “have a good time.”  Dawn blushes as Glory chuckles and shoots a wink over to Deacon.  “Bye.”

*********

 

Dawn stands there awkwardly while they watch Glory and Roger walk out of sight. 

“Alright,” Deacon exclaims.  He claps his hands together a bit too enthusiastically, making Dawn flinch.  “Hungry?”

Dawn shakes her head no.  “We just ate before they left.”

“We could sings songs around the campfire.”

“What fire?” she questions with a raised eyebrow.  “That lantern?”

“Sure, why not?”

His earnest expression has Dawn chuckling at his antics.  “Pass,” she says, feeling calmer.

Deacon starts to relax too.  “We can canoodle in the courtyard, and watch the last of the stars come out,” he suggests, his tone taking on a sultry edge.

Dawn notices, and it causes butterflies in her stomach.  She doesn’t move from her spot, and Deacon sees her wring her hands.  She softly shakes her head no, not meeting his gaze.  She’s feeling tense, excited, and unsure of herself now that they’re alone.  And whether or not it’s said out loud, she feels that there are expectations of how tonight should go hanging in the air.

Deacon lets out a ragged sigh, and glances around the room.  “We could patrol again, or just stare out the windows?”  He tries to maintain his casual demeanor.  He feels as much on edge as Dawn seems to be, so he decides to let her actions dictate how the night goes.  _Don’t force it_ , he thinks, _all good things to those who wait_.

“Well, I’m all out of ideas.  So I say let’s call it a night,” he concedes, walking towards the other room.

“Shouldn’t we be keeping watch?” Dawn asks, flitting her eyes between Deacon and the windows.

He stops and watches her for a moment before it hits him what he had just said.  “I… uh… Look I didn’t mean we had to do anything besides sleep.  I was only going to brush my teeth.”

Some of Dawn’s tension leaves, only to be replaced by embarrassment that Deacon could read her so easily.  “Sorry.  I…“  She takes a deep breath, letting it out.

Deacon moves over to her.  He places a gentle hand on her arm.  “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous as hell too.”

Dawn looks at him.  “Really?” she asks, not quite believing him.

He gives her arm a squeeze.  “Yeah, really,” he tells her earnestly.

Dawn considers him for a moment, believing his confession.

She smirks at the situation, letting her eyes drop to the floor.  She feels she should say something witty to break the tension, but can’t think of a reply. 

“So sleep, then?” Deacon softly asks, pulling her gaze back up.  Dawn nods, and Deacon drops his hand, turning back to the other room.  Dawn trails after him as he gathers up his things.  “I’m just going to pop into the gents to change and clean up,” he informs her.

“You’re going to change again?” she questions as she grabs her pajamas, toothbrush, and a carton of dirty water.

“Yeah.  Got to keep people guessing what I’m going to wear next.”

Dawn rolls her eyes at him, a small smile forming on her face, and heads to the other bathroom.  She’s relieved to find that this bathroom is skeleton free.  She never thought that would be a concern for her, but that’s life now.

She focuses on the tasks at hand, changing and cleaning up, but anxiety keeps creeping in.  Her cheeks feel warm and her chest keeps tightening.  _It’s just Deacon_ , she tries to tell herself, but that does little to alleviate her unfound fears.

Thinking she’s dallied long enough, she comes out, only to find that she has the room to herself.  She furrows her brow, but figures Deacon is taking his time too. 

She tucks her things away, and climbs onto the bed she used the night before.  Thankfully, Glory and Roger left their blankets behind, so there is more than enough bedding to layer over the soiled mattresses.

Dawn is still trying to situate herself when Deacon wanders out.  She takes in his relaxed attire, and can’t help but follow him with her eyes.  She likes that he’s removed his glasses, seeing them on top of the clothes he’s carrying.

He walks barefoot across the room, and unceremoniously dumps his things by his bag; though he’s careful enough not to break his shades.  He straightens up and turns to Dawn, a smile creeping up his face as he catches her watching him.  Her cheeks flush, and she quickly looks away, pretending to be immersed in straightening her blankets.

He softly chuckles to himself, and makes his way over to her.  Squatting down next to the mattress, he helps fix a corner of her bedding.

She stops, watching him curiously.  “So?” he says, clearing his throat.  “Care for some platonic company, or shall I find my own lodgings?”

She lets her eyes wander over him for a moment, and since she can’t seem to find the words, she shows him it’s okay instead.

Gradually Dawn scoots back to one side of the mattress, moving to make room for him.  Deacon takes this as an invitation and walks over to the side of the bed.  He lays down on the side she vacated; careful to give her plenty of space.

“Any of these blankets for lying under?  Or are they all just for laying on?” he jests.

She shoots him a dirty look before pulling over another blanket.  She shakes it out, letting it fall back down, and drapes it over them both.

“Better?” she asks scooting down under the covers.

“Yep,” Deacon replies, placing his arm under the back of his head.  “Goodnight, Dawn,” he adds.

“Night,” she mutters watching him warily.

He turns slightly towards her, pulling his arm out from under his head.  “Want me to turn off the light?  Or at least turn it down?”

“It’s fine,” she mutters.

“Works for me,” Deacon shrugs, laying back down.  He pulls the covers up a little more, and closes his eyes.

Dawn frowns to herself.  _That’s it?  No goodnight kiss?  No touch?  He didn’t even try anything._   She doesn’t understand.  _Is he really nervous too?  Or is he not interested in going any further?_ she worries.And she’ll be damned if she asks him again.  Last time she stuck her foot in her mouth by mentioning Barbara, and has no desire to repeat that scene.

She studies him for a minute, then forces her eyes closed, only to have them open a moment later.  _He’s really just going to go to sleep?_ she thinks irritated _.  But of course he is, Isn’t that what I wanted?  Ugh!_ she yells internally, flipping on to her back.  _Why am I making this so hard?_

Deacon cracks open his eyes, and turns his head, watching the myriad of emotions pass over Dawn’s face.

He slowly turns towards her, and she’s too lost in her own thoughts to notice until he speaks up.  “Hey,” Deacon says softly. 

Dawn’s eyes open and meet his.  “Hi,” she returns before her gaze falters and she looks up at the ceiling.

A concerned look mars Deacon’s features as he forgets his own anxiety.  He shifts closer to her.  Setting a hand on her cheek, he turns her face back to him, her body following until she’s laying on her side.

“You okay?”

She nods not wanting to say how she feels, not even sure that she can.  His closeness makes her heart race in anticipation, but the nervousness creeping up as he studies her, has her throat tightening up. 

Deacon inches a little closer, moving his hand from her face to rest on top of the blanket over her arm.

“As a professional liar, I have to say, you’re not very good at it.”

Her eyes flick up to his for a moment before dropping away again.  She seems to shrink into herself, curling a bit on the bed.  “I know,” she offers.  “I just…”  Deacon waits, he’s a patient man.

She looks at him again, and nervously licks her lips.  A worried expression fills her face.   “I know she was trying to be nice… giving us time alone, but…”

“Who?  Glory?”

Dawn nods again.

Deacon offers her a reassuring smile.  “Don’t sweat the small stuff.  Nothing has to happen tonight.”

He receives a different reaction than he thought he would.  Instead of relief, Dawn looks a bit miffed.  With a puzzled look, and a little bit of hope, Deacon asks her cautiously, “ **Did** you want something to happen?”

“Yes,” she barely whispers.  Deacon’s mind goes blank, but his heart thumps into overdrive.  For once, he’s at a loss for words.

She quietly watches him take in her confession.  It takes him a few moments to come back to himself.  Once he does, he grins from ear to ear, and leans forward, but she pulls back a bit, ducking her head, so he ends up placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

He recovers from her rejection quickly.  “We’ll take it slow,” he offers.  “Just dip our feet into the water.  Okay?”

Dawn feels so out of her element right now, but forces herself to try and explain.  “I’m…” she sighs and tries again.  “I’m not a virgin, Deacon, but…”  She lets out a soft groan.  “It just feels forced, you know?”

“Am I pressuring you?” he worries, putting space between them.  “Because that is 100% **not** my goal.”

“No,” Dawn tries to reassure him.  “No, I didn’t mean you…  I just meant… I don’t know,” she lightly huffs.

Deacon watches her struggle, not really knowing how to help the situation, except to not push her.

She knows she’s being contradictory right now, but she’s having a hard time overcoming her anxiety.  She wants Deacon to touch her.  She wants the night to go how Glory anticipates it going, but…  Really she just wants it to happen, without words, without thought, without planning it out in advance.  How does she tell Deacon all of that?

She looks at him again, her brow slightly furrowed.  “It’s no one in particular.  It’s me, mostly, I suppose.  I’m overthinking things, and I don’t want to.”  She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, her cheeks turning red from her admission, her voice getting quieter.  “I want to initiate things, but the thought scares me.  I’m embarrassed even saying it out loud.”

Deacon shifts towards her again.  He sets his hand on her hip, still keeping it on top of the covers.  “You’ve embarrassed yourself in front of me before, this is nothing new,” he says, trying to lighten the mood.  And it works.  A smile lights up Dawn’s face, and he sees some of the tension leave her.

“I guess what I want, Deacon, is to get swept up in the moment, and… and not be in control.”  She shyly studies his reaction, thinking maybe she’s asking for something weird, her cheeks growing warm.  She’s never really voiced what she’s wanted before, but Deacon has such a disarming personality that it helps.  And at the end of the day, she’s not afraid that he’ll judge her too harshly, or hold anything against her.  

“So far, so good,” Deacon says tentatively.  “I can work with that.”

He gradually tightens his grip on her hip, hesitantly pulling himself closer still.  She’s already rebuffed him twice, so he’s leery, and is ready to stop the moment she asks him to.

Her heart beats hard in her chest, and her eyes widen until his proximity unnerves her, and she lets her them drift closed.  She wets her lips with the tip of her tongue, and waits.  Deacon, thankfully, doesn’t make her wait long.  He presses his lips to hers, but ends the kiss before it can turn into something more.

He pulls his head back, wanting to see Dawn’s reaction.  Her eyes slowly open, and she seems confused.

“Why did you stop?” she asks.

He lets out a wry chuckle.  “Just checking to see if this is really happening.”

“Yes… if you want it to,” Dawn murmurs.  She’s still nervous, but feels better having spoken up.

Deacon’s demeanor turns serious and contemplative.  “Yeah,” he nods, “I’m done running or whatever metaphor fits best here.”

“Me too,” Dawn whispers.

He runs his hand across her cheek and into her hair.  He wants to tell her how beautiful he finds her right now, but doesn’t want to be so cliché.  Instead he chuckles to himself, and places a soft kiss where his hand had caressed her.  Dawn involuntarily turns her head towards Deacon’s face.  She’s silently begging him for a real kiss.  With his hand on the back of her head, he gently pulls her face to his, and obliges.

The stress and nerves of earlier washes away from both of them as Deacon deepens the kiss.

Dawn moans softly as she tentatively moves her hand onto Deacon’s side.   This emboldens him to move his own arm under the blanket.  His lips barely leaving Dawn’s, as he slides his hand down to the small of her back and pulls her flush with his body.

Another moan breaks free as she ends the kiss, panting for air.

Deacon shifts his weight as he kisses her neck, pushing Dawn onto her back and into the mattress.

She tips her head back.  Her eyes close as she grips his shirt. 

He presses his lips to her jaw line, and she bends her head forward again, her eyes dark with lust.  Deacon kisses her again, his tongue finding hers.  Dawn’s hands move to Deacon’s back, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him harder against her. 

He moves a leg in between hers, and places one hand on her knee, skimming up along her inner thigh, stopping at her scar.  Deacon moves his lips back to her jaw, then along her neck, and down to her collar bone.  Dawn turns her face away, stretching her neck to allow him more access.

His fingers follow the path of her scar tissue to the outside of her thigh where he grips her and pulls her leg up, moving to settle himself fully between her thighs.  She spreads her legs to accommodate him.

Her real leg hooks around the back of his, trying to press him into her.  She acts on instinct alone, trying not to let thoughts creep in which only serve to make her nervous and unsure.

He lets her pull him into her, and she rolls her hips up into his.  A soft groan escapes him and he urgently kisses her.  Their touches becoming more desperate.

Deacon shifts off of his right arm, putting more weight on to Dawn, who doesn’t seem to mind in the least.  His left hand is still on her right thigh, though it’s moving closer to her hip, dipping below the fabric of her shorts; scrunching them up.  He skims along her underwear, pushing his hand beneath her, where he squeezes her cheek and jerks her hips up to his as he grinds down, eliciting a gasp from her.  

Dawn’s eyes go wide, filed with surprise that Deacon is being so bold. 

He looks down at her, his breath coming in quicker.  Arching an eyebrow at her, he answers with a smirk, “You asked to be swept up in the moment, and I’m delivering.”

She nods her acceptance, and places a hand behind his head.  Gently tugging, she brings him down for another kiss, tongues exploring each other.  Her hips rolling up again. 

Deacon pulls back, allowing him just enough room to pull off his shirt, which he tosses next to the bed.  His hands roam along Dawn’s contours before settling on the hem of her shirt.  He pushes it up, making sure to take full advantage of the situation.  He brushes up along her flesh, up to her ribs, before fully removing the garment.  Dawn takes in several sharps breaths, as her muscles contract beneath his touch.

Once her shirt is removed, Deacon slips a bra strap off of her shoulder.  Taking the hint, Dawn reaches back to unclasp the offending article of clothing.  She slides it off; Deacon takes it from her and adds it to the growing pile of clothes next to the bed.  The blanket, meanwhile, gets pushed down further and further.

His eyes roam over her.  Dawn self-consciously covers her breasts with her arm.  Deacon doesn’t comment on it.  Instead, he starts to pull her shorts and underwear down in one go, but she stops him by lightly placing a hand on his.  He meets her gaze, which she quickly averts.  Her cheeks are stained red since her shorts are currently around her knees, and she feels very exposed.

“Could you turn the light down?  Please?” she whispers.

“Of course.  Besides I work best in the shadows,” he winks at her.  He pulls her clothes off the rest of the way, and moves to the lantern.  He dims it down, and crawls back up towards Dawn, pushing his own pants off as he goes.

He lays down next to Dawn, and runs a hand across her.  The mood no longer urgent.  He watches the little twitches he causes as her muscles tighten beneath his fingers.  He looks at Dawn who’s biting her bottom lip slightly, trying to stifle the sounds she’s making as he explores.  She seems to be alternating between whimpers and laughter as he hits several sensitive spots.  A smug grin briefly spreads across Deacon's face.

Finally, he stills his hand, resting it just below her ribs.  He studies her eyes for a moment, and she calmly meets his gaze.  A warm smile lights up his face, and he dips his head, kissing Dawn fully on the lips.  Desire quickly courses through his body as the kiss turns hungry.

Deacon moves back between her legs, using his to spread her thighs further apart.  She easily parts for him.  Her hands going to the back of his arms to pull him closer.

His caresses her breast, rubbing her hardening nipple.  She moans and arches into his touch.

He kisses her again and runs his hand back down to the apex of her thighs.  Dipping a finger inside her, she shudders as he slowly thrusts in and out of her.

“Please, Deacon,” she begs after a few strokes. 

He doesn’t waste words now; no witty comment falling from his lips.  Deacon wants her as much as she wants him. 

He pulls his hand away, and slowly guides himself into her.  It takes a few thrusts before he’s fully seated inside of her.

His pace is slow and steady at first.  Dawn’s breath hitches as she lets the sensations wash over her.  Her muscles involuntarily clenching and unclenching around Deacon, making it harder for him to maintain his pace. 

He starts to go a little quicker as he begins to chase his own pleasure too.  His breath coming in short, swift pants, while Dawn lets out soft gasps in between her pleas.  “Yes.  Yes.  Please,” she cries.

He pushes harder, faster, letting her breathy moans dictate the speed.  He settles his weight on her, gripping her hips to hold her steady as he ruts against her.  His face buried in her neck.

Dawn eyes are closed, her head titled back as she tries to take in more air; her chest heaving.  A light sheen of sweat covers them both.  Suddenly all of her muscles tighten as a wave of bliss crashes over her.  Her fingers curling into Deacon’s flesh.

He keeps going, close to his own climax.  He turns his head to hers, and presses a demanding kiss to Dawn’s lips as she starts to come back down from her high.  Deacon’s hips stutter as he pushes hard into her; a drawn out groan escaping them both as Dawn feels a warmth spread inside her.

They pause, staying in this position, neither ready to move yet.  The air is filled with the sound of ragged breathing.

When Dawn finally opens her eyes she's met by a darker blue pair.

A smile slowly forms on her face as her eyes close again, her eyelids feeling heavy.

She sluggishly opens them again, and sees a huge grin on Deacon’s face.

He places a quick peck on her nose before pulling out of her.  She makes a face, already missing the feel of him in her.

He pulls the blanket back up, and lays down next to her again; his eyes seem mischievous.  “So big spoon or little spoon?” he asks.

She looks at him confused for a moment. 

“I’ve never been the little spoon, but I’m feeling generous,” Deacon murmurs.  He gently nudges Dawn until she turns onto her side, facing away from him.  He drapes an arm over her waist, and rests against her.  Letting his head relax on the pillow beneath him, he whispers near her ear, “But next time, it’s my turn.” 

Dawn chuckles, and leans back into Deacon’s warmth, wrapping his arm more securely around her.  “Okay,” she agrees.

 


	27. Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn and Deacon head back to Switchboard. Along the way, Deacon entertains Dawn with his poetry. 
> 
>  
> 
> ***************************************

The harsh glare of the morning light causes Dawn to scrunch up her eyes, and bury herself under the blankets, but something doesn’t feel right.  She reaches her hand out tentatively, not feeling anything… or anyone.  That’s when she remembers where she is.  She pushes the blanket back, and glances around the room, not seeing Deacon anywhere. 

Using the opportunity presented to her, she quickly grabs some clothes, and heads into the bathroom.  It doesn’t take her long to get ready, unlike last night when her nerves got the best of her.

Today, she’s more concerned with where Deacon’s gone.  She knows he wouldn’t leave, besides some of his things are still on the floor.  Having scanned this area, she also knows he’s not nearby.

Putting a hand in front of her face, she shields her eyes from the glare of the sun, and peeks out of the windows one by one until she spots him leaving the adjacent building.  She lets out a sigh of relief, not noticing, until now, that she was genuinely worried something had happened to him. 

She heads back to the room they shared, and starts packing up their things, setting aside some of the food so they can eat before heading out.

Thankfully, since she went with Roger to sell some of the loot yesterday, there’s not much to carry today.

Dawn stands there making sure she didn’t miss anything, and wonders if she should make the bed, but finds the thought humorous.  Who would notice if the bed was made when the building is falling apart like so much of the Commonwealth?

“What’re you chuckling about?” Deacon asks, sliding up behind her. 

Dawn tenses for a moment at being caught unaware, but quickly relaxes into Deacon’s embrace when he plants a kiss on the side of her neck.

“Just debating on how important making the bed is in this post-apocalyptic world.”

“Hmm,” Deacon replies, nuzzling into Dawn’s hair.   “Very.”

She laughs.  “I’m going to leave it.  Should we eat before we go?”

“Back to business?” he comments.  He feels the atmosphere change, her body tense. 

“I wasn’t trying to sour the mood,” she grumbles.

“That wasn’t a dig on you,” he says, hugging her a little tighter.  “I just thought we could ease into the day, take our time.”  He kisses her cheek, and releases her.

She turns around with a slight frown on her face realizing that her nerves are making her second-guess the situation.  She takes a moment, making herself relax.  “No, you’re right.  No need to rush.”  Her expression softens.  “Did you find anything on your patrol?”

“Nope, but didn’t really expect to.  I think the dead bodies below are a good deterrent to anyone hoping to claim this area.  At least for now,” Deacon shrugs.  “So what’s for breakfast?”

“Mmm, a gourmet bonanza.”

“Really?”

“Yep.  We have baked bloatfly, a few cans of Cram, some Dandy Boy apples, a few carrots, and a couple boxes of Instamash.  Did any of those entice you?” Dawn asks with a smirk.

“Just you,” Deacon replies, causing a blush to form on Dawn’s face.  “But, maybe we save that for later?”  She doesn’t reply, not that he expected her to.  Instead, she shyly looks away. 

Taking pity on her, Deacon offers, “Whatever you serve, is what I’m eating.”

It takes Dawn a moment to reply, her voice a low whisper as she mulls over Deacon’s suggestion.  “Umm… Cram and Dandy Boy apples it is then.”  She puts the rest of the food away, avoiding his gaze, her cheeks getting warmer.  _How can he make me feel so relaxed, and at the same so nervous?_

Dawn breaks open the tins of food, offering some to Deacon.  They sit in the make-shift living room, eating in silence.

“Anything you want to do before we head back?” Deacon asks, as they finish.

“Uh, yeah.  Can we stop at Goodneighbor?  I know it’s a little out of the way.”

“For you?  You bet,” he answers, earning him a radiant smile.  “First stop, though, is the safe house.  If we don’t let them know we cleared the area Glory’s going to lecture me when I get home.”

“Okay.  I’m ready.”  Dawn jumps up, eager to get on the road. 

“Trying to escape me?” Deacon asks, one brow cocked, as he watches her sling her bag over her shoulder.

Dawn chuckles.  “Not on your life,” she states.  “You’re stuck with me.”

“Good.”

***********

 

They step back outside onto the sidewalk, having just told the safe house the good news.

“No rad storms, and the sun’s out.  Maybe our luck will hold until Goodneighbor,” Dawn says hopefully.

“Not now that you jinxed us,” Deacon jests.

Dawn just sneers at him.

“Lead the way, Hubflower,” Deacon says, gesturing in the direction they need to go.

With a small shake of her head, and a smile on her face, Dawn heads off; Deacon falling in beside her.

After several blocks in silence, Deacon speaks up; never one to be quiet for long (unless the situation warrants it).

“I like to fill long silences like this with my poetic musings.”

“Do you now?”

“Yep.  Wanna hear one?”

Dawn pauses, scanning the area before Deacon can gripe.  “It’s safe,” she assures him.  “Okay, let’s hear it.”  She stands there watching him, her arms crossed.

“Just remember that you asked for it.”  She rolls her eyes at him, but remains quiet.

“Okay.  I call this one ‘ **Radroach Stew’** …

        ‘ **How delicious you look;**

**How wonderful you smell;**

**as a chuck floats by in my bowl.**

**The flavor you provide**

**is so hard to describe.**

**I just hope I can keep it all down**.’ “ Deacon finishes with mirth in his eyes.

Dawn tries her best to not laugh, but tears are rolling down her face as she shakes with quiet laughter.  “Okay,” she says after a few moments, “that wasn’t bad.  Hilarious and a bit gross, but not bad.”

“I have more,” Deacon offers, as they start to walk again.

“Just as good?” Dawn chuckles.

“Better,” Deacon replies, causing Dawn to laugh out loud.  Deacon joins her, enjoying the relaxed feeling she tends to give him.

“Alright,” she says, getting herself back under control, “let’s hear another.”

***********

 

“Ah, home, sweet, home,” Deacon states as they approach the tunnel leading under the Slocum Joe’s.

“Back to work, I guess,” Dawn mutters.

“You know you like helping The Railroad, and you get to work with ‘yours truly’.”

“Mmm, I guess that’s one perk,” Dawn retorts.

“It is,” Deacon says, taking her hand as they walk the labyrinth into Switchboard.

“You two sure took your time getting back,” Dez comments as they enter the main area.

“Consider it our honeymoon,” Deacon replies with a shrug, while Dawn pulls her hand out of his.  She gives him a scathing look which he chooses to ignore.

“Then I take it we don’t need to find a room for Dawn?” Desdemona remarks, eyeing them both.

“Nope, she’s all taken care of,” Deacon croons, pulling her closer, his arm around her waist.

Dawn nudges him in the ribs with her elbow, but again, he ignores her.

“And need I remind you two that the walls are thin, and our quarters are close?”  Dez reiterates.

“Don’t worry.  We’ll keep the noise to a minimum.”

Dawn glares at him again, her face crimson from both embarrassment and anger.

Dez doesn’t say anything more for a minute as she takes a puff of her cigarette, blowing the smoke away from them.  “Alright.  I guess I can’t put a stop to this, though I’ve tried.”   She waves a dismissive hand before either Dawn or Deacon can reply.  “Glory's already turned in her portion of the report.  I expect you two to look it over, and add what you need to.  We’ll discuss your next assignment later.”

“You got it, boss,” Deacon replies, pulling Dawn along with him.

“Why do you do that?” she accuses him once they’re out of earshot.

“Do what?”

“Goad us.”

“Do I?”

Dawn stops, pulling her hand away from Deacon’s again.  He looks hurt, but puts his hands up to try and pacify her before they get into an argument in the hallway.

“Okay.  Okay.  Hey, I’m sorry.  You’re right.”  Dawn doesn’t say anything, just quietly seethes.  “Should we take this somewhere private?” Deacon asks, feeling a trifle uneasy. 

Dawn lets out a huff, and closes her eyes for a moment.  “No, just…”  She opens her eyes, looking at him.  “You know we don’t get along that well, and she didn't want us to be together.”

“And I pushed too hard.  I’ll own that.”  He watches her closely, seeing the anger drain away, replaced by simple annoyance.  “Are we good?”

A sly look passes over Dawn’s face.  “Maybe,” she replies.

“Want me to make it worth your while?”

Dawn’s face turns red.  She knows she started it, but she’s not very good at playing the game.

Her silence doesn’t surprise him, so he continues, “I could start by making sure all of your things get moved into my room… **our** room?”

Dawn keeps her eyes averted, but nods.  “Good,” Deacon responds.  “We’ll get you moved first, then fill out Dez’s report.”


	28. Home Sweet Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn officially moves into Deacon's room. 
> 
>  
> 
> ***************************************************

“So… you have somewhere you want me to put my stuff?” Dawn asks holding a box in the doorway.

Deacon turns to her, already having dropped the box he was carrying onto the mattress.  “Mi casa es su casa,” he states.

She looks around the sparse room, frowning.  Besides the bed, there’s only a trunk in the corner with a lantern on it.  After a little hesitation, she sets her things by the wall closest to the door.

“We need some furniture.”

“Sure.  What’re thinking of?”

“A locker or two...  and a bookshelf?”

“You got it.  Consider it requisitioned.”

“Maybe a rug?” Dawn suggests hopefully.

“Demanding,” Deacon playfully chides.

“It’ll make it homey,” Dawn trails off as Deacon closes in on her.  He stands next to her, surveying the room, while she watches him. 

He pulls her close, placing a kiss on her cheek.  Meeting her eyes, he softly asks, “Are we playing house, then?”

She opens her mouth to say something, though her mind is a blank.  Thankfully fate gives her an out.  Shouting erupts in the hallway outside.  They both turn to see what’s going on, but Deacon stops her for a moment, whispering in her ear, “Guess this conversation’s on pause?”

Dawn gives him a quick nod with fear in her eyes, before moving away.  _I’m rushing things_ , Deacon reprimands himself, taking a deep breath.  _Dial it back some, Deacon._   He takes another calming breath, following her out of the door. 

He spots a few dead radroaches on the ground.  _Well, that explains that_ , he thinks, seeing a few agents milling about.   

He meets Dawn’s gaze for a moment, before she quickly looks away.  _Gotta give her a chance to breathe, we just got back_ , he reminds himself as he saunters over to Dawn, throwing a casual arm over her shoulders.  She looks at him a little unsure, but doesn’t pull away, which he takes as a good sign.

“Want to grab us something to eat, and I’ll meet you over at Dez’s workstation?  We’ll write up our report, then find Glory for a game of cards?”

“You sure you wouldn’t prefer checkers?  Or I think I saw Blast Radius somewhere around here?” she teases.

“I’m sure,” he smiles, stepping away from her.

“Where are you heading to?”

“Apparently I don’t have enough furniture, so I’m going to see what I can scrounge up.”

“Mmm.  So thoughtful,” Dawn murmurs.

“That’s me; thoughtful and humble about it,” he adds with a wink.

**********

 

Glory slides in next to Dawn on the couch, a plate of food in her hand.

“We were going to come find you later,” Dawn says between bites.

Glory chuckles at her.  “Oh, yeah?  What for?”

“Deacon wants to play cards.”

“And where is he now?”

“Why?  Did you miss me?” Deacon utters from behind them.  He leans over, placing a kiss on Dawn’s forehead before coming around the front.  Dawn hands him his plate of food and goes back to eating; a slight blush on her cheeks.

“Mmm,” Deacon comments, taking a whiff of the aroma coming off of his plate.  “Another culinary delight.”   He sits down across from the two women.

“So, I’m guessing you two are official now?” Glory inquires.

Dawn turns red, and chooses to remain silent.  Deacon chuckles.  “What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know.  Call it a hunch,” Glory shrugs.  “Or it could be the public display of affection I just saw?”

“Anyone’s guess then,” Deacon remarks.

“You know, for a while I thought you two would just stay friends.  Neither one of you seemed willing to move things forward.  Glad I left you two alone.”

“We were making progress,” Dawn mutters.

“Mmm hmm,” Glory retorts.  “That’s fine.  No need to thank me,” she adds with a grin.

“Seems she’s humble, too,” Deacon offers.  Dawn just rolls her eyes at them both.

“Well at least this will put some rumors to rest and we can talk about something else,” Glory states.

“Oh, you mean like how Tinker Tom likes to steal clothes to put on statues?” Dawn interjects.

“Yeah, that one’s weird,” Glory agrees.

Dawn frowns, “I’ve never even seen any statues wearing real clothes.  Nor have I seen him leave our hide-outs, except for when we moved.”

“Haha!” Deacon snorts.  “Really?  You two heard that one??”

“Yeah,” Glory answers, staring at him suspiciously. 

“I started that one,” Deacon confesses, laughing.

“Makes sense,” Glory and Dawn say at the same time.


	29. Bunking Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn and Deacon's first night together at Switchboard.
> 
>  
> 
> ****************************************

“Tonight was nice,” Dawn admits as she and Deacon stroll back to their room, ready to call it a night.  “I was worried Glory would tease us more.  Or at least **me** more.”

“Glory?  Nah, she’s good people.  Good synth?  Well, you know what I mean,” Deacon jests entwining his fingers with Dawn’s.

“Yeah,” she agrees softly.

They stop at the door to their room.  Deacon feels Dawn hesitate.  “You know I won’t pressure you to do anything, right?” he asks, genuinely concerned.

“I know,” she nods.

“You want me to scrounge up a second mattress?  Cuz you know I will.”

She’s touched by his concern, and answers with a slight shake of her head.

“Okay, but let me know if you change your mind.  I really don’t think Drummer Boy needs one.  We can just give him a cushion.  He’s small.”

Dawn breaks into a grin.  “I think he’s a little bigger than a cushion,” she chastises Deacon.

“I don’t know.  I think we could make it work,” he shrugs, opening their door.

She chuckles, following behind him, appreciative of how effortlessly he puts her at ease.

“Just remember,” Deacon states, as he starts getting ready for bed, “it’s my turn to be the little spoon.” 

"I remember.”

They both leave to change and clean-up in one of the nearby bathrooms.

Coming back in, Dawn sees that she’s first again, though Deacon enters a few moments later.

“Do you have a preference,” she asks, “or can I just pick one of the lockers?”

“Ladies first.”

Dawn randomly picks a locker, putting her things away.  She glances at the boxes by the door, and decides to leave those for another time.

While Deacon puts his stuff in the other locker, Dawn climbs under the covers.

“No spare bookshelves?” she questions as Deacon turns the lantern off, and slides under the blanket with her.

“I got you a rug, and that wasn’t easy to come by.”

She smiles, though he can’t see it since his glasses are in his locker.

“Sorry,” she concedes.  “What I meant was ‘thank-you, Deacon’.”

“I know.  I’m amazing, right?”

Dawn chuckles again, shoving Deacon, who gladly turns onto his side, facing away from her.  She shakes her head, and moves closer to him, tentatively setting her cybernetic arm on his.

She feels him relax, and after a moment, she relaxes too, letting her arm rest a little more heavily on him.  He makes no comment, nor any movement, curious to see if she’ll do anything else, or if this is as far as she’s comfortable going.

She also waits to see if he’ll do anything more.  She feels his muscles move slightly as he carefully shifts his arm under hers.  She watches him in the dark, but he does nothing else.  A slight frown mars her features as she’s unsure of her next move. 

She takes a deep breath to still her nerves; breathing in his scent.  Her heart clenches and she finds herself moving closer to him; lightly pressing against his back. 

Dawn takes another breath, and wets her lips. 

Feeling self-conscious, but wanting to touch him more, she leans her face forward, her eyes closed.  Softly she nuzzles her nose against the back of his neck, letting her lips ghost across his flesh, sending shivers through Deacon.  

His silence emboldens her as she slides her hand up across his chest, snuggling even tighter against him. 

Her fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt; her hips flush with his body.  She places a kiss above the collar of his shirt, and he feels her tongue as her lips part slightly; hot breath against his skin.

He wants to touch her, but continues to bide his time, knowing it’s a rare treat for Dawn to take the lead.

Desire coursing through her veins, she lifts her leg up onto Deacon’s, hooking it over his thigh.  She presses another bold kiss to his neck, and slowly shifts so she’s starting to lean over him. 

Dawn places soft kisses along his jawline, inching her way closer to his face.

She brushes against the corner of his mouth when Deacon suddenly decides to be a more active participate, and rolls onto his back.  Dawn laughs as she’s unceremoniously dumped across his chest.

“Deacon!” she exclaims, playfully hitting him as his arms snake around her, pulling her tight against him.

“What?  I was just helping move things along.”

“I think I was doing pretty well,” Dawn pouts in the dark.

“You were,” Deacon agrees, “but I thought I could lend a hand anyways.”

“How kind of you,” she murmurs as he moves his hands down, gripping her hips and placing a kiss on her nose.

He tries again, this time finding her lips.  He tenderly explores her mouth, gradually moving beneath her, until he has Dawn resting more comfortably on him; her legs settling between his.

Tongues caressing as they taste each other.  Soft groans escape them both as hands roam; gripping and tugging on clothes.

Deacon manages to remove Dawn’s shirt first, before tossing his to the side as well.

He kneads his fingers into her flesh, repeatedly rocking his hips up into hers, as Dawn fists the sheets beside his head.  She pants near his ear as he presses harder into her, before running his fingers up her back, feeling her shiver at his light touch.

He stops when he touches her bra.  Making quick work of the clasp, he flings the garment into the darkness.

“You’re going to find that for me later, right?” Dawn teases.

Deacon makes a non-committal noise before finding Dawn’s lips again.  He snakes a hand between their bodies, skimming it across her breasts before rubbing a callused finger across her nipple. 

He gently tugs and plays with it until Dawn moans into his mouth.  Her hips wantonly press down into his, causing Deacon to grunt out loud.

He quickly rolls Dawn onto her back, pushing her down into the mattress as he greedily kisses her.  His hand finding her waistband, and shoving the fabric down. 

She clutches the back of his arm with one hand, the other skimming down his abs, making the muscles clench as she follows his lead; her aim to help him push their remaining clothes out of the way, which they succeed in doing.

Though he can’t see her, it brings a smile to Deacon’s face to know Dawn is naked below him.  He forces himself to slow down, and take him time.  He gradually runs his hands up her legs, feeling her squirm at the languid pace he sets.

Gently he pushes her thighs apart, and settles between them, keeping himself propped up on one elbow so he can freely explore his girlfriend.

He rubs the back of his hand across her folds, and hears her breath quicken.  Another pass and her hips lift up trying to follow his hand.  A soft chuckle leaves him, but he doesn’t want to tease her too much.  He flips his hand over, and lets his fingers explore, leaning down to her face to kiss away her moans.

His fingers delve inside and begin a slow, steady pace, but Dawn has other ideas.  She starts rocking her body, trying to make Deacon go a little faster, and a little deeper. 

When that doesn’t quite get her what she wants, she reaches down and grasps him.  Deacon’s breath hitches at the contact, and his hand pauses for a moment.  She rubs down his length, and back up a few times, gently twisting and tightening her grip as she goes.

She hooks a leg behind his thigh to urge him towards her until he’s brushing against her entrance.  She drops her hand, and Deacon takes over again; stroking himself with his wet fingers.  His heart is hammering in his chest; anticipation coursing through his veins.  He lines himself up and pushes into Dawn.

She lets out a long, soft moan at the sensations he creates.

She reaches up, and winds her fingers along the nape of his neck, pulling him down to her.  Her mouth meets his as he pulls back out, only to thrust in again.  He swallows the gasp that escapes her lips.  His tongue diving into her mouth, and caressing hers as he starts a deep, slow rhythm with his hips; pressing all the way inside of her before reversing direction.   

Dawn arches up into Deacon.  She brokenly says his name, followed by a series of whimpers when he shifts his angel slightly.  She grips the sheet beneath her; her fingers clutching it tightly, her eyes shut.

Deacon places a brief, but passionate kiss to Dawn’s lips before the need for air is too much for them.

He keeps up his unrelenting pace. 

Dawn spreads her legs wider, and starts to beg.  “Please,” she rasps.  “Oh, please… yes… yes… please, Deacon,” she urges him; her need taking over any coherent thoughts.

She wraps her arms around his back and uses the leverage to better arch up into him.  Deacon slides a hand under her, helping to keep her hips up.  The new position increases the intensity.  She throws her head back as she gasps for air; her muscles contracting around him. 

Deacon sucks on the flesh of her breast, causing Dawn to dig her fingers into his skin.

His thrusts speed up, shallow and quick, as his breath comes in hard and leaves in heavy pants.

“Ah, ah, ah… Deacon,” Dawn stutters before her orgasm leaves her breathless.

Only the sound of flesh on flesh, and Deacon’s ragged breathing is heard for a few moments before he, also, finds his release.

The two of them fall against the mattress in a tangle of limbs and sweat; both trying to find enough oxygen in the room to calm their frantic hearts.

“Do you want me to move?” Deacon asks an exhausted Dawn.

She softly chuckles.  He feels it in his chest.  “No,” she replies.  “I like the feel of you,” she quietly admits.

“Okay.  I'll stay here for a bit, but only because you begged.”  

Dawn chuckles again and lazily runs her hand up Deacon’s arm.   He shifts slightly, pulling out of her, and rests his head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat.

She traces patterns on his back, her hand moving slower with each pass as she starts to drift off to sleep.

Deacon feels her slipping away.  He places a chaste kiss on her lips before she fully succumbs.  “Goodnight, Dawn,” he tells her. 

“Night,” she mumbles, briefly thinking about how happy she feels right now.

 


	30. What's My Age Again?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacon learns one of Dawn's biggest secrets... which doesn't surprise as much as it should.
> 
>  
> 
> ********************************************************

“Hey stranger,” Deacon calls as he nears a familiar figure.  “What brings you to this lovely neighborhood?”  He sweeps his arms towards the nearby bags of rotten meat strung up by the Super Mutants.

“Just out for a stroll,” Dawn jests.  “You?”

“Heard you were going to be in the area, so I swung by.”

“How lucky of me,” she beams.

“Care for some company?”

“I’m heading to Goodneighbor, if you want to join me.  I’m hoping Daisy has a new book in stock.”

“Anything in particular?” Deacon prods as he comes alongside Dawn, taking her hand in his.

She blushes slightly as he plants a soft kiss on her lips.  “Not really,” she whispers, momentarily thrown off by Deacon’s affection.  She hasn’t seen him in nearly two weeks.

He smiles at her, “You lead, I’ll follow,” to which she does.

“Fancy seeing you two together,” Daisy’s gruff voice exclaims.  “And actually together,” she adds, motioning towards the fact that Deacon is holding Dawn’s hand.  Dawn, feeling self-conscious, tries to remove her hand, but Deacon anticipated her reaction.  His grip tightens just enough to prevent her from doing anything but leaving her hand where it is.  A smirk playing across his face.  

She glares at him for a moment, but decides to drop the matter.   She wants to get used to letting others see them as a couple, she just has to work past her nerves. 

“So…  To what do I the pleasure of your visit?” Daisy asks, breaking into Dawn’s thoughts.

“I was wondering if you had another book to loan me.”

“I do.  Just finished one last week you might like.” 

“Yeah?  Which one?”

Daisy reaches under the counter, and pulls out a tattered book.  “Nicholas Nickleby.”

Dawn’s eyes light up.  “Really?  I never got read it, but I watched it.  It looked intriguing.”

“It has a lot of the same story elements as ‘A Christmas Carol’.”  Daisy hands the book over, which Dawn takes almost reverently.  Deacon lets go of her hand so she can use it to run across the cover, and flip through the pages.

“All I ask is that you let me know how you like it,” Daisy croaks.

“Of course.  And thank-you.” 

Dawn starts to tuck the book away, when Daisy speaks up again.  “If you don’t have to rush off, I could use a break.”

Dawn glances at Deacon.  “Yeah.  Talk,” he says.  “I can find some things to do while we’re here.  Maybe get us a room at the Rexford?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.  I haven’t stayed there yet.”

“Good.”  He kisses the top of her head, and gives Daisy a wave ‘good-bye’.  “Take care of her.”

“Always do.”

**********

 

Dawn wanders out of Daisy’s shop roughly an hour later.  She takes a stroll around the block to find Deacon chatting with one of the guards outside of The Third Rail.  A smile warms her face at finding him so quickly.  She’s missed him.

She steps up next to him, not wanting to interrupt, but to simply let him know that she’s done.  He drapes an arm over her shoulders and finishes his conversation. 

When he’s done he turns his head to her.  “Wanna go eat?  Or go check out the room I snagged us?”

“Room,” she answers.

“You wish is my strong recommendation,” he replies, steering her towards the hotel.

Once inside, Deacon gives Clair a wave as he directs Dawn past the front desk to the stairs.

“No refunds in the event of armed robbery or kidnapping during your stay,” Claire calls after them.

“That makes me feel safe,” Dawn mutters, giving Deacon a questioning look.  He just replies with laughter.

On the next floor, Deacon drops his arm from Dawn, and pulls out a key.  He unlocks a nearby door, then ushers her in and shuts the door behind them.  She heads directly to the bed, plopping down to test its comfort level.  She gives him a nod of approval, and glances around the room, taking in the furnishings.

“Nice digs,” she remarks.

“Glad you approve.”  He moves to a chair, and sits down.  “So… I’m full of questions, which I don’t except answers to, but I think I want to ask anyways.”

Deacon removes his glasses, setting them on the small table next to him.  Dawn looks at him wearily, but remains mute.  

He snorts out a small laugh expecting nothing different from her.  “Okay, just gonna pull off the Band-Aid here.  When were you born, Dawn?”

They study each other, neither saying anything. 

Nearly a minute passes before Dawn looks away.  Her hands are slightly clenched, and she bounces one leg nervously up and down. 

“You don’t have to answer,” Deacon reassures her.  “But it might …”

“When were you born?” Dawn interrupts gently. 

Deacon smiles, and sits back, taking on a relaxed air.

“Who knows,” he replies, not looking at her; his gaze directed towards the ceiling.

“Give me a ballpark.”

“Is that like Diamond City?  I’ve heard it called that.”

“Really, Deacon?” she sighs.  “Look, it’s just a phrase to mean ‘an approximate number’.”

“Alright, I'll play.”  He sits back up, leaning forward.  “Honesty time?”

“Yes, please.”

“Mmm… I don’t know.  The late 40s? early 50s?”

“2250s though, right?”

“Yeah,” Deacon answers, studying her more closely.

“Okay.”  Dawn takes a shaky breath.  She doesn’t really like sharing her past, but for Deacon, she will.  “Ask me again when I was born.  Please.”

“Okay.  Humoring you.  Dawn…  When were you born?”

“The mid 40s,” she murmurs.

He laughs.  “Are you saying you’re older than me?”

She nods, maintaining eye contact for once.

“You’re either getting better at lying or you’re telling the truth.”  Dawn starts to protest, but Deacon holds up a hand, stopping her.  “I know, I know.  You don’t lie to me, right?  Then what’s your secret to looking so young?”

“I’m not just a few years older than you.  I was born in the 2040s, not the 2240s.”

Deacon frowns at her.  “You look pretty good for a pre-war ghoul.”

“Thank-you, but guess again.”

He looks her up and down, then studies her eyes.  “Either you’re delusional, which I’m not ready to rule out yet, or maybe you’re a synth with pre-war memories.  We have a pool on that by the way.”

She smirks at him.  “I’m human, so I hope you didn’t bet against that or you lost your money.”

“Jury’s still out, but assuming you’re human, and **assuming** you’re **not** crazy, for the time being...”  Deacon mutters, “Well then...  Sorry, Granny, you’re not my type.”

That earns him a shocked look, quickly followed by a pillow chucked at him.  He laughs at Dawn as it bounces off of his arm. 

“Is that all you can do?  I guess for being 200, I shouldn’t expect much.”

She sneers at him, and throws another pillow, which hits the back of the chair as he ducks out of the way.

“You’re out of ammo, and you missed me.  Need some glasses?  Can you even see me?” he mocks, waving his hands in front of her as he crosses the room to sit on the bed beside her.

“You’re an ass,” Dawn reiterates, shoving him, causing Deacon to start laughing again.

“Alright, I give up, Hubflower.  What’s your secret?  Did you find the Fountain of Youth?”

“Cryostasis,” she whispers.

All playfulness leaves the room.  “Ah, Vault 98,” Deacon guesses. 

Dawn gives him a slight nod, pain flooding her eyes. 

“Is that one of the things they did to you?” he falters, anger lacing his tone at the unknown people that subjected her to their experiments.

“Yes.”

“Will you ever go back to see what became of them?”

“I don’t know.”

They stay quiet for a bit, letting the words hang in the air.

“Now I understand why you and Daisy are such good friends.”  He receives a soft smile for that observation.  “Follow up…  You told me and Glory that you’ve worn that suit for, what…  3 years now?  But really it’s more like 203 years?”

“Give or take,” Dawn admits reluctantly.

Deacon gives her a mock disgusted look.  “I am **really** glad that I know you wash that thing regularly, otherwise… eww!”

She laughs at his pathetic attempt to lighten the mood.

He smiles at her, and runs a hand through her hair.  She leans into his touch.

Now that she's confirmed this secret, a lot of things click into place for him.  He had his suspicions, but still wanted to hear it directly from Dawn. 

“And I’m guessing you used to drive cars, which is why you liked the old pass-phrase.”  She nods her head.  “And that’s how you watched the book Daisy gave you.  You saw it on T.V.”  Another nod.  “Okay.  I can accept that.  Do you age normal now?”

“I’ve always aged normally,” she says sarcastically.

“Except for when you were on ice?”

“Yes, except for that.”

He places a relaxed hand on her thigh.  A soft chuckle escapes him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he replies.  “I just never really saw myself with an older woman.”

“Jerk,” she mutters.

He chuckles again, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Honestly, though.  This answers the majority of the questions I’ve had about you.”

“Good.  I’m glad.  And… it’s nice that you know now.”

“I had my suspicions.  You’ve been a bit obvious.  Besides liking the old pass-phrase, you’ve mentioned head-on collisions.  And when we were at the amphitheater you seemed to be reminiscing.  Need I go on?”

“No, I’ve got the hint.”  She pauses for a moment.  “Do you really not know your exact age?”

“Birth certificates aren’t really a thing anymore, so no.  Besides, even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you.  A gentleman never reveals his age.”

Dawn laughs at him, until he silences her with a passionate kiss.

He pulls back a bit; a gleam in his eyes.  “Bedtime, Granny,” he tells her. 

Dawn nods, and lays back on the bed.  With a mischievous smirk on his face, Deacon shuts off the lantern.


	31. Help From A Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn spends a little time with her friend, Nick Valentine.
> 
>  
> 
> ********************************************************

Dawn scans the crowd, a permanent scowl on her face.  “Who are we looking for again?”

“You’ve asked that four times already,” Tommy Whispers complains.  “Are you this way on missions with your boyfriend?  Or just with me?” he gripes.

Dawn ignores him, continuing to watch the crowd.  “Are we sure he’s in Diamond City?”

“Yes, and you’ve asked that already too.”

“Well maybe if we had a sketch of the guy, or a better description, I wouldn’t keep asking,” she snipes back.

“Look, I’m hot, tired, and hungry.  Maybe we should take a break, and start again in a bit.  Then we won’t be jumping down each other’s throat.”

Dawn tries to watch her tongue.  Tommy’s right.  “Yeah.  Fine.  I’ll meet back up with you.”

“Where are **_you_** going?”

“To see a friend.”

***********

 

“Hi!  You’re back.  Looking for Nicky?” Ellie greets Dawn.

“Is he here?”

“He’ll be back in a bit.  Just popped off to let a client know he found their missing shipment of cloth.  Guy swears he had simply given it to the wrong customer, but seems he was doing that a lot.  Had his own little smuggling ring going on.”

“Can I sit and wait?”

“Yeah, sure.  Are you okay, honey?”

“Hot and tired.”

“Here, sit by the fan.  Nick won’t mind.”

“Thank-you.”

Less than 10 minutes pass before the main door opens to reveal a worn looking synth.  He removes his hat and coat, which Ellie promptly takes from him to hang up.  His eyes light up when he spots Dawn.

“Now there’s a face I didn’t figure I’d see again anytime soon.”

“Want me to leave?” she teases.

Nick chuckles, walking over to Dawn as she stands.  “Not on your life, doll,” he answers, pulling her in for a quick hug.  “And where’s that boyfriend of yours?”

“A different assignment.”

Nick backs up to take a good look at Dawn.  “So you two are still together?”  Dawn nods.  “Good.  I figured you two would work it out.”  Nick moves over to his desk, and sits down in his creaky chair.  He spins around to face Dawn, who sits back down.  Ellie continues typing away on whatever she’s been working on.

“I’m guessing you came for a reason, and this isn’t just a social call.”

Dawn smiles at him.  “Good guess.”

“It’s my job.  So what’re the stakes?”

“We’re hoping for no casualties.”

“Who’s the mark?”

“A rogue synth.  Doc Amari…”  Dawn sighs, not wanting to get into her feelings about the doctor.  “The memory download didn’t go according to plan, I guess.  The Railroad tracked him here, and we don’t need him making a bad name for synths.”

“No we don’t.  Got more for me to go on?  Say a name, or description?”

“Sort of.  5’9”.  Dark brown hair that’s a little long.  He was wearing a grey sweater.” 

“Hmm… not much to go on.  Do you have anything else?”

Dawn shakes her head.  “I tried scanning in the market, but didn’t pick him up.  I could’ve missed him.”

“Or he’s holed up inside somewhere.  Seems we got our work cut out for us.”

“You can ask Tommy Whispers,” Dawn says hopefully.  “He’s the agent in charge of this.”

“Lead the way.”

**********

 

“Okay.  You want my take on the situation?” Valentine asks Tommy and Dawn.  They both nod.

“Based on the bodies out front, he’s not going to come out quietly.  And he sure won’t come out just because we ask nicely.  We can draw straws on who wants to go in and distract him, while the other two circle around the back.  Any takers?”

“I’ll go in,” Tommy volunteers.

“Alright,” Nick says.  “Just keep him talking, and we’ll subdue him.  And don’t try anything heroic.  Let’s try to avoid getting any bullet holes in us today.  Ellie just patched up my coat.”

Dawn smiles at the sentiment, and nods her head.

“Good.  Best of luck,” Nick tells Tommy, then turns back to Dawn.  “You go north, and I’m heading east.”

They all leave in their respective directions. 

Dawn goes slowly, scanning the area outside.  The last time she came past the Backstreet Apparel building it was overrun with raiders.  So far nothing is picking up so she continues along.

She finds a door that leads inside.  After a few tugs on it, it opens.  Thankfully the hinges don’t make more than the slightest squeak in the process, and only a few bits of rubble tumble away.

Dawn slips inside and makes her way down a hallway to a set of stairs.  She heads up and runs into the detective.

“I heard some voices that way; so let’s say we see who’s doing the talking,” Valentine suggests.

Dawn and Nick head down another hallway only to be blocked by a locked door with a computer beside it.  Dawn frowns at it.  She’s always amazed by what survived the bombs, but has never been able to figure out where the power comes from to run the computers she’s seen.

She approaches it reluctantly, hacking isn’t one of her strong suits.

Nick watches her for a minute before offering his help and expertise.  “You know, I can probably make that terminal talk for ya, if you ask nicely.”

She looks at him and laughs at his comment.  “Thank-you,” she beams.

Heading over to the terminal Valentine muses, “You’re a nice kid, Dawn, but when you smile like that I can see why Deacon followed you all over The Commonwealth.”

Dawn shifts her gaze away, her cheeks stained pink.

It doesn’t take Nick long to break into the terminal and get the door to open.  They proceed down another set of stairs as Tommy’s voice drifts towards them.

“I don’t know who you think is going to pay a ransom for us.”

“If no one’s willing to pay, then we’ll sell you.  Either way, we’ll make a couple caps off you.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Nick whispers.  “I was hoping this job would be cut and dry.  No such luck, I guess.”

Dawn peers around the corner, then moves back by her friend.  “It’s not that bad.  Only four raiders.  And Tommy and the synth are tied together.”

“Alright.  How do you want to do this then?  Nice and quiet, or hard and loud.”

Dawn doesn’t reply, but a sly grin does spread across her face.

“Hard and loud it is,” Nick states. 

They enter the room with guns drawn.  A shoot-out erupts instantly.  However, with the element of surprise on their side, Nick and Dawn are able to subdue the raiders rather quickly.

With the four raiders dead, Dawn cuts the rope holding the prisoners.

“Thanks,” Tommy says.  He extends a hand to the synth, who looks at him uncertainly, but accepts it anyways.  Tommy pulls him to his feet.

“Hi Halley.  That’s your name, right?  I’m sure you’re plenty confused right now, but this isn’t where you want to be.  You let me help you, and I’ll take you somewhere where we can answer all of your questions.  Sound good?” Tommy asks.

Halley looks to the three people in the room, who only watch him, waiting for his response.  He agrees, and Tommy gently pats him on the back.

Valentine steps over, and shakes the other synth’s hand.  “They’re good people,” he informs him.  “You know, the Institute treats synths like tools, tossed away without a thought.  Glad to be reminded that some people care about us.”

Dawn smiles at the mushy scene then proceeds to loot the raiders.  She gives any caps she finds to Nick to thank him for his help.  The rest of the inventory she’ll sell later.  With that done, the group exits the building.  Valentine turns towards Diamond City, while the other three head to the bridge which leads north.

The detective stops for a moment and Dawn sees him hesitate.  “You okay?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

“We’ll take care of him.  See to it that he gets a chance.”

“I know and that’s all I ask.  And it was real great seeing you again, Dawn.  Don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t,” she grins, coming over to give him a quick hug. 

“If any of you ever need help again, you know where to find me,” he reminds her.


	32. I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn and Deacon are on the road again. Dez wants them to check for Institute activity.
> 
> *************************************************************

“You two did good.  We’re not going to send Halley back to Doc Amari’s just yet.  Let’s see how he settles in first,” Dez tells Dawn and Tommy Whispers.

Dawn scowls at the mention of the doctor’s name, but keeps quiet.

Tommy, though, does speak up.  “What made you change your mind?”

Dez looks to Dawn, who’s staring at the ground.  “Seeing as the only people he killed were raiders who attacked him first, I think we can give him time to adjust and see if a second treatment is even necessary.”

At this, Dawn does look up; meeting Desdemona’s gaze.  “Really?” she asks skeptically.

“Yes.  I’m willing to take the risk,” Dez states.  “In this case at least.”  She takes a puff of her cigarette, blowing the smoke off to the side.  “Now, I have something else for you two.”

“We’re going out together again?” Tommy questions.  “Don’t take this wrong, but maybe we could be separated for a bit? Wouldn’t want to ruin a friendship over petty squabbling.”

Dez chuckles.  “I wasn’t going to send you two together, so enjoy your time apart.  Tommy, go see Pam for your next assignment.  Dawn, I hear that Doc Carrington has a task for you.  Are you willing to work with him?  A little bird told me you were.”

_Deacon_ , Dawn thinks, nodding her head.  Carrington has proven that he’s not like the doctors from The Vault, and she’s been wanting to show him some trust.

“Great.  Go see what he wants.”

Dawn doesn’t move, even though Dez has dismissed her.  “Hmm?” Dez asks.

“Are you trying to…  You keep sending us on missions…” she stops and frowns.  _Just ask, and find out why_.  _We’ve been getting along, maybe it’s not what I think.  She did just agree about Halley not going back to Goodneighbor._

Desdemona smokes her cigarette and patiently waits for Dawn to finish.  She knows where this is going, but wants to make her say it out loud.  She doesn’t mind the awkward tension, and can wait as long as she needs to.

Dawn lightly bites her lip in frustration, her hands clench briefly.  _Just ask!_   She takes a hesitant breath, then forces herself to meet Dez’s eyes, and tentatively asks, “Are you trying to keep us apart again?”

Dez chuckles.  “No.”  She holds up her hands, seeing that Dawn’s about to retort.  “ ** _I have_** , and I can see why you’d think that, but… right now, we really need agents on the ground.  I still worry about you being an unnecessary distraction for each other, but…” she shrugs, “frankly, you seem to get the work done, so I really can’t complain.”  She sighs and puts out her cigarette.  “Look.  There’s been increased synth activity close by, and near our old Headquarters.  And these aren’t the kind of synths we risk our lives trying to save.  Something’s going to happen soon, and I need to know what.”

Dawn’s expression turns from one of frustration and suspicion, to one of concern.

Dez continues, “I’ll see to it that you’re on a mission together, or at the very least, I’ll give you a few days on leave.  But you have to be patient, okay?”

“Okay,” Dawn concedes.

*********

 

“You two want some time alone, and I need some solid answers about all the recent synth patrols in the area.”  Dez shuts her eyes for a moment, and pinches the bridge of her nose.  “I marked a spot of your map.  Take a look and tell me what you find there.  I **have** to know if there’s any Institute involvement.”

“Alright.  You got it,” Deacon replies.

*********

 

“Tired yet?  Cuz I could go for some shut-eye,” Deacon admits.  “The Taffington Boathouse is close, and I don’t think The Railroad’s using it right now.”

Dawn stifles a yawn.  “A little.”

“Good call.  You always have the best plans,” he croons.  Dawn rolls her eyes at his antics, and he throws an arm around her waist, pulling her close.  He places a kiss on her forehead before letting her go. 

She takes his hand in hers, and they head towards the safe house.

*********

 

“Ahh, home sweet home.  Nothin’ like sleeping inside after two days on the road,” Deacon rejoices.

“You say ‘home sweet home’ for every place we go to,” Dawn points out.

“Yes.  But home is where the heart is,” he states, placing another kiss on her head before heading towards the house.

She still blushes when he does that.

Following behind him, she takes in the scenery.  It looks peaceful here.  A house on the lake, partially surrounded by woods at dusk.  The people who used to live here, probably loved it.

“Hey,” Deacon calls, snapping Dawn out of her daydream.  “Let’s do a quick sweep, then find a room to crash in for the night.  I’m exhausted.”

“Okay.”

They walk the perimeter before heading into the boathouse where they are attacked by a few mirelurks coming out of the water.

“I hate ‘lurks,” Deacon complains once they’re dead.  “Piercing their shell is a bitch.  And we didn’t bring any butter with us.  That would’ve made up for them chewing through my ammo.”

“You complain a lot,” Dawn chastises him.  “Let’s head inside.”

“Fine.  Fine,” he grumbles half-heartedly.

After a quick check inside, it seems the coast is clear.  And they even found some half-way clean mattresses upstairs.

Deacon plops down on one, as Dawn gazes out the window overlooking the lake.  “Want us to take shifts?” she asks.

He reaches over, and tugs her leg closer to him, then yanks her down onto the mattress with him.  She squeals in surprise and they share a moment of laughter.  “Sleep.  Too tired,” he replies.

She takes a moment to adjust around him, then rests her head on his chest.  He moves an arm under her and pulls her close.

“No spoons tonight?” she questions.

“Next time,” he promises.

She smiles, and they lull into silence.  “Deacon?” she asks after a bit, hoping he’s still awake.

“Hmm?”

“I… I was a bit surprised that Dez paired us together.  She told me she would, but…” she shrugs against him.  “I sorta didn’t believe her.  And I definitely didn’t expect it to be so soon,” she confides.

“What?” he feigns hurt feelings, “did you not want to spend time with your’s truly?”

She chuckles, “Of course I did.  I just thought…  you know.”

“Yeah,” he whispers above her.  “My turn to make a confession?”

“Sure.”

“I think it’s nice.  You two getting along and all.  Sure makes my life a hell of a lot easier.”

Dawn picks her head up and glares at him.  “Sure it’s all about you.”

“Yep, usually is.”

She laughs at him, and sets her head back down on his chest.  He winds his fingers gently through her hair. 

“I get it,” she comments.  “This doesn’t make her and I friends, but… it is better.”  She lets out a yawn.

“Yeah, it really is,” Deacon murmurs.  “Night, Dawn.  I love you.”

She tenses as he suspected she would.  His heart is hammering in his chest, but she can’t hear it over her own.  She lets a few seconds pass before saying anything; shocked by his admission.

“Night, Deacon,” she replies, squeezing her eyes shut, and tightening her grip on him a little.  Thoughts race through her head.  _Is this too soon?  Not soon enough?  Does he mean it?  He is pretty tired.  We both are.  Is he mad I didn’t say anything back?_

Deacon hums his approval, and she feels him relax beneath her.  He languidly strokes her hair as he starts to drift off.  He doesn’t mind so much, that she didn’t say the words back.  It’s enough for him that she’s here, and that she didn’t pull away.

A smile forms on his lips as he succumbs to sleep.  And despite the adrenaline running through her veins at his words, Dawn follows Deacon’s lead, and is soon asleep too. 


	33. Vault 98

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dez sends Deacon and Dawn up north to scope out a spot on the map.
> 
> *******************************************************

Morning brings awkward feelings for Dawn.  Deacon seems his normal self, but she’s on edge.  _He said he loves me._   _How should I have responded?_ _Is he going to bring it up?_ She keeps shooting him little worried glances. 

Finally it starts to get to him.  “Alright, Dawn,” Deacon starts, “Let’s converse.”

She freezes, her hand about to drop a can of Cram into her bag.  She tries making eye contact, and fails. 

Deacon sighs and lets out a nervous chuckle.  “Okay… Guess I’m starting the conversation?”  She nods.  “I told you what I wanted to say last night.  We don’t need to rehash if it’ll make you uncomfortable.”  She doesn’t say anything, just watches him.  He lets out a shaky breath.  “You’re a good listener, Hubflower, but I could use a little feedback here, you know?”

She shyly smiles, and casts her eyes down.  She cares for him **_a lot_** , it might even be love, but she doesn’t know that she’s ready to say it.  The Commonwealth has made her even more reserved than she was before.  She frowns, not sure what he needs from her; not sure if she can give it.

“Look,” he says, moving close to her.  Her eyes come up and meet his.  She seems sad, and weary.  “I don’t need you to say the words, so you can stop shooting looks my way.  I won’t push.  You should know that by now.”

“I do, Deacon.”

“Good,” he nods.  “And we’re talking now.  I say words, you say some back, yeah?”

She playfully sneers at him. 

He helps throw a few more items into her bag, then moves to grab his own.  He slings it on and heads towards the door with Dawn in tow.  Deacon flings an arm over her shoulder as they leave the Taffington House.  “I know neither one of us is big on the mushy stuff, but… look, no pressure, just stay by me.  That’s enough for now.”

They start down the road, heading north-east.  Dawn nods, and gives him a soft smile.  “Thanks, Deacon.  And…” she trails off, her cheeks warming as he gazes as her.

He drops his arm and links his fingers with hers.  He picks her hand up as they walk and presses a kiss to it, before swinging their arms back down.  She smiles at him, her eyes alight.

She doesn’t have to tell him, he sees it.  “I know,” he says with a large grin.  He takes a deep breath of the morning air.  “I do so love these little chats,” he comments.

Dawn laughs, shaking her head.  They’re quiet for a bit as they walk.  Both reflecting on their growing relationship.  Both happy in this moment.

*********

 

“I don’t know where Dez is sending us, but I’m fairly certain we have been walking for years,” Deacon grumbles.

Dawn snickers at him.  “Tired again?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” she admits.

“Great.  Let’s head a bit off the beaten path, and find a place to eat and take a nap.”

*********

 

They’re back on the road again after only an hour break.  Just enough time for a snack, a bit of shut-eye, and for Deacon to look over the map.

“I feel confident that we’ll get there by nightfall,” he states.

“Good.  Why’d Desdemona send us all the way up here?  Seems far removed from the synth activity.”  Dawn looks around with a scowl.  She thinks she’s crossed this bridge before, but doesn’t know when.  Each step brings a growing sense of déjà-vu.

“Didn’t get the specifics, just that she wants to double check that the Institute’s not involved.”

“Do we think they’re up here?  I thought we…  I don’t’ know,” she shrugs.  “I guess I figured they were somewhere near Diamond City or Goodneighbor.  What better place to hide than right under everyone’s feet?”

“That…  Is a very chilling thought.”

She grins at him.  “You’re welcome.”

“Not like I wanted to sleep at night anyways,” Deacon remarks.

Dawn goes quiet again.  “Deacon?”

“Yeah?”

She slows down, then stops altogether.  She looks around, scanning the area, a scowl on her face. 

Deacon tenses, and also searches the area.  Nothing but trees and shrubs in front of them, as far as he can tell.  “What’s up?  You spot something?”

“No,” Dawn slowly shakes her head.  “Where are we?”

“Uh…”  Deacon pulls out the map.  He unfolds it, then refolds it to show the top corner they’re in.  “About here, give or take.”

Dawn scoffs.  “Hugo’s Hole?  And there’s the Museum of Withcraft,” she points out.  “What **_are_** we doing here?” she asks again.

“I told you what Dez said.”

“Yeah.  Okay.”  She takes a breath.  “Look, there are Deathclaws in this area.”

“Maybe we take the long way around?  That sounds smart, right?”  He gives the area around them another cursory glance.  He would be happy not seeing one of those hulking creatures any time soon.

“We can sneak behind Hugo’s Hole, and go up.  How far north are we talking?”

Deacon stops stuffing the map back into his pocket.  He gives it a quick look, then puts it back.  “About another 2… 3 inches.”

Dawn doesn’t say anything for a bit.

“You okay?  You’re kinda scaring me.”  He places a hand under her chin, and turns her face to his.  She seems troubled; her eyes clouded in turmoil.

“Yeah, fine,” she breathes out. 

Deacon decides not to press.  “You lead the way since you seem to know the area.”

Dawn nods, and crouching low, makes her way through the trees, trying her best to avoid any Deathclaws, or any of the Raiders who like to camp out in the construction site.

Once they skirt the area, she stands, and breathes a sigh of relief.  Deacon watches as she takes a moment to stretch out the kinks in her back and neck from squatting so long.

She turns to him.  “Something on my face?” she jests.

His expression is serious, and now it’s her turn to be worried.  Before she says something else, he speaks up.  “I swear I don’t know anything more than I’ve told you about our mission.  Care to share why you know the region?”  He fears Dez had an alternative reason for sending them here, but he doesn’t know what it is.

Dawn frowns and looks away.  “Can I give you the happier reason?”

“Sure.”

“Before…” she stares off into the distance, reminiscing.  “Before the bombs fell, I lived up here.”  She chuckles.  “My brother hated it.  He offered to help pay my rent so I could move, but I liked my place.  It was mine, you know?”  She looks at Deacon, and he nods. 

“We should continue,” Dawn states.  “Don’t want to lose too much light.”

“Right.”  They walk for a few minutes before Deacon tries to get her to talk again.  “A brother, huh?  I took you to be an only child.”

Dawn laughs.  “Nope.  One brother.  A few years older, and… a real great guy.  He…”  She stops talking, sadness etched on her face.  She takes a few moments to let the feelings pass.

“Your neighborhood couldn’t have been as bad as it is now.  No Ferals, no Deathclaws…”

She smiles, which is what he wanted.  “That wasn’t the problem.  The Mahkra Fishpacking plant is up here.  We’re actually going to be pretty close to it.  It was the smell that got to him.  But, man was my rent cheap.  And my apartment was huge!  It didn’t matter that I couldn’t open the windows on warm days, and that I went through a lot of air freshener.  I could afford it.”  She laughed at the memory of her brother coming to visit.  His face scrunched up in disgust. 

Dawn looks at Deacon.  “He really was a great guy, and he meant well.  He did come over a few times, but for the most part him and his wife invited me to their place to eat.  They even offered to pay for me to drive there.”  Her smile falters.  “I miss him,” she whispers.  Deacon wraps an arm around her and pulls her close.  They walk in silence for a while.

********

 

“Whew.  Nearly there,” Deacon sighs in relief, tucking the map away once more.  “Hope you got some energy left.  We might have to fight some synths if Dez is right.”

“Willing and able,” Dawn answers.

“I’ll stay in the tree line, and pick ‘em off.  You can go up and meet them in person if you want.”

Dawn grins at him.  “Chicken.”

“That was a bird, right?  And an insult?”  Dawn nods.  “I accept if it means I stay safe and bullet-free.”

“And what about me?”

“You’re pretty hearty.  And we have stimpaks.  You’ll be fine.”

“Jerk.”  She jokes, shoving him in the arm. 

They share a laugh as they clamber up a small incline, holding onto the trees for support as they go.  Suddenly Dawn freezes.  She knows exactly where they are.  Deacon turns to her.  “Deathclaw?” he whispers.

She glares at him and shakes her head.  “No,” she grits out. 

He holds his hands up, sliding a little on the rocks.  “Woah, how did I become public enemy number one?”

She pushes herself past him, fire in her eyes.  She stops again as soon as she reaches the crest of the hill.  She points down it to their destination. 

Deacon moves next to her to see what’s got her so bothered.  “Shit,” is all he can say.

There at the bottom of the hill is a vault door.  Vault 98.


	34. No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn's extremely unhappy about Dez sending her to Vault 98. A tough decision is made.  
> (some bad language in this chapter)
> 
> ******************************************************************

“I’m not going in there!”

“Hey.  Hey.  Nobody here’s going to make you.  I told you I didn’t know anything more than you did about why we came here.”

“Fuck her!”  Dawn stomps past Deacon, heading back the way they came.  She slides a bit as she makes her way down the hill.  Deacon follows in her wake.

He should’ve known better.  He knew it felt suspicious.  Normally Dez gives him a bit more intel then just ‘check it out’.  He was only too happy to have time alone with Dawn that he didn’t question it.  _Shit!_

Dawn keeps marching off through the woods and underbrush, unaware of anything but the anger she’s feeling; the utter betrayal.  She stops and lets out a sob.  Deacon catches up, and quickly wraps his arms around her.  He pulls her tight against him.  She doesn’t fight him, just clings to him and cries. 

“They… they did this to me,” she chokes out, holding her arm away from them, glaring at it.  “I…”  She pulls away from him and continues on her rampage through the trees and onto an old road.  “I went there before the bombs, you know,” she yells back at him.  “I lived there for nearly two months before.  We were given rooms and suits… jobs.” 

She pauses near a rusted car, staring at the ground, lost in her head.  “We had seminars to get to know each other.  It was nice.  It was weird that the doctors were always there writing on their clipboards, but we ignored them.  We shouldn’t have done that.” 

She turns and walks off again, head down.  Her voice has dropped, and she’s quieter, so Deacon jogs to be next to her.  “When the bombs fell, the orders changed.  We were told to pack non-essentials so we could make room for refugees.  Refugees that never came,” she spits out bitterly.  “We stayed in barren rooms for a few weeks, as, one by one, our numbers went down.  They said they were moving us to another set of quarters.  I don’t know why I believed them, even a little.  It was all soooo.. fishy.”  Her jaw is tense, he sees the muscles twitching there in her rage. 

She finally stops walking and just paces a small patch of road in front of him.  He keeps quiet hoping she’ll spill the rest of her toxic tale.  It might be better to have it in the open. 

It takes her a moment, but eventually Dawn continues, avoiding Deacon’s gaze.  “When it was my turn, they took me to a pod, and shoved me in.  It was cold, but it passed quickly.”  Unconsciously she runs her hands up and down her arms.   “Next thing I knew the glass was thawing and I’m falling into the arms of some doctors in white coats.  I don’t even recognize their faces.”  She looks at him now, imploring him to understand.  “I… I don’t think they went into stasis like we did.  I think they lived there and each generation became a doctor too, staying there, testing on us.”

_Sick bastards_ , he thinks, but remains silent.  He knows she’s not done.

She takes a shaky breath.  Deacon reaches out to her, but she jumps back like he burned her.  Her eyes bore into his.  “They took me to a… an exam room.  That’s where I lived.  Under harsh lights with eyes always on me.  Sometimes they were in the room, sometimes only outside the observation windows.  **_Assholes_** , every one of them!  I ate when they said.  Slept when they said.  I learned quickly to just endure.  It went faster that way, and they left me alone quicker.  Until… until one day they…”

She had been shouting again, but stops.  Deacon wants to hold her but she won’t let him.

Her voice barely a whisper now as she hugs herself, tears slipping down her cheek.  “They took my eye first.  Then my arm…  Then my leg.  They said I needed to scout for them.  They trained me on weapons, and shocked me anytime they thought I was going to turn it on them.  They sent me out here… alone… to fight… whatever I found.  They didn’t want supplies.  They didn’t want survivors… they wanted to send me out like a gladiator in the arena.”

Deacon’s fists are clenched at his side.  He wants to hit… something… someone… the people who hurt her.  His jaw clenches at her story.  His eyes flash anger likes her, but are hidden behind shades.  He stays still afraid he’ll start yelling, and she’ll think it’s at her.

They stay still like statues in the road for nearly a minute as they each deal with the torrent of emotions washing over them.  Finally Dawn’s eyes snap to Deacon’s.  She stares him down.  “I won’t go back, Deacon.  Nothing you can say or do will make me change my mind,” she seethes.

He doesn’t want to make her go back, but revenge is on his mind right now.  “You don’t want to know what became of them!?  Make sure they’re not still doing their sick experiments on others??  I didn’t mean to bring you here, Dawn, but why waste an opportunity?”  They could stop this now.  Give Dawn some peace.

She looks away, huffing in anger.  _He should understand!_   What more must she tell him to make him understand?  She goes to say something… anything, but a loud roar shakes the ground.  Her eyes widen, and Deacon lunges forward, grabbing her arm and yanking her to him. 

“Run!” he yells, shoving her past him. 

_No!_ her mind screams.  _He can’t!  I won’t let him die for me, not like this!_   Dawn’s old dreams resurface making her panic.

She turns to look back, but Deacon keeps pushing her to run.  It takes her a moment to realize that he’s not trying to sacrifice himself.  He’s trying to save them both. 

Dawn catches a glimpse of a Deathclaw off to their right, tearing through the trees after them.  They start sprinting to the left, running towards a dilapidated red garage, and what appears to be have been a blue house.  They, unintentionally, split up as they go around a car sitting in the yard.  Dawn heads towards the house, while Deacon takes the garage.  He ducks under the open door and disappears into the darkness. 

Dawn jumps onto the porch with the Deathclaw breathing down her neck and manages to shove the front door open, slipping inside just as it tries to grab her with its claws.

She looks around, dazed.  There’s literally nowhere to hide.  Except for the wall behind her with the door, all the others are missing.

Thankfully the Deathclaw is still trying to reach through the doorway giving Dawn time to think.  It bellows behind her; the force of it knocking her to her knees.  She stares back in fear, but sees that it’s been wounded.  _Deacon!  He must be shooting it._   She feels relief flooding her as she gets to her feet. 

Dawn sprints through the back of the house, and onto the grass.  With the Deathclaw distracted, she manages to sneak to the other side of the garage, and go in through a busted window.  Spilling onto the floor, she looks up at Deacon.  “Hi,” she barely gets out before she hears the creature attack the building.  The wall shudders, but holds.

“Hey yourself.  Care to lend a hand?” Deacon asks gesturing towards the monster at the entranceway.

Dawn scrambles to her feet, worried it can get in.  The Deathclaw paces outside, taking the occasional swipe at the building and roaring, but doesn’t seem to be as threatening right now.  Dawn and Deacon don’t waste any time shooting at it.  They can’t leave the garage as long as it’s still around.

It takes a bit of their ammunition, but eventually they kill it.

“Another Deathclaw down, and another of my 9 lives burned.  Yay,” Deacon mutters sarcastically.

Dawn just lets herself relax as she slumps to the floor.  Too much adrenaline has been pumping through her veins over the last half hour.  Between being chased and reliving her memories of Vault 98, she’s worn out.

“Deacon?” she murmurs.

“Hmm?”  He comes over to her, squatting down.  “Can you move?”

“I’m fine.  Tired.”

“Glad you made it over here in one piece.  I was worried for a moment.”

“Only a moment?”

Deacon scoffs, and sits down next to Dawn.  “Longer than that.  Happy?”

“Yes,” she concedes, stifling a yawn. 

“We should find better shelter than this.”  Dawn nods, and Deacon helps her up.  “Let grab some meat off of our kill, and hightail it out of here before something else shows up.”

*********

 

“Did you make that noise?” Deacon asks nervously. 

“Yeah.  I kicked a rock.”

“Sorry.  I’m a little jumpy after our earlier encounter.  Normally I like the dark.  Love it in fact, but I’m ready to get inside and fire up the lantern.”

“There should be some houses up ahead.  At least there used to be,” Dawn mentions. 

********

 

It doesn’t take them too long find a decent place to bunk for the night.  Dawn falls asleep as soon as her head hits the mattress.  She doesn’t even care what shape it’s in.

Sunlight streaming on her face, wakes her the next morning.  She stretches, bumping Deacon with her elbow.

“Sorry,” she mumbles.

“S’alright,” he replies.

She turns over and smiles at him, but it’s a sad smile. 

He pulls her close, and kisses her deeply.  She lets him, gripping him tightly.  He knows something’s shifted in her, and is afraid it’s bad news.  They hold onto each other, desperation in their touches.

Deacon helps her out of her clothes.  His desire to be inside of her warring with a genuine fear that he’s losing her and doesn’t know how to stop it.  He pours his heart out in how he touches her; his kisses setting fire to her skin before he sinks into her. 

Dawn wraps her legs tightly around him, trying to preserve this moment.  Tears escape her eyes, which she keeps tightly shut.  Her heart hurts.  _He doesn’t deserve this_ , she thinks.

He presses harder into her, eliciting a gasp.  Her face releases some of its tension, and he feels her relax.  The tight band across his chest eases up a little.  He still feels a dark cloud over them, but for now, he helps chase it away.

He kisses her again, as she clutches his arms tightly, her breathing deep and heavy.  He groans into her ear, and hears her matching sounds.

Thrust after thrust fills the air as they chase after, and finally find, their release.

They lay panting for a moment before Dawn opens her eyes and finds herself staring into Deacon’s.  They’re dark, and stormy; filled with worry.  He wipes a stray tear from her check.  “Are you leaving again?” he asks softly, still in her; still over her.

She drops her gaze.  “Not you, but yes.  I can’t…”  She looks at him.  “I can’t go back.  I can’t keep letting Desdemona manipulate me.”  She searches his eyes for understanding.

He closes them, and moves off of her.  He lays on his back next to her and lets out a huff. 

Dawn sits up and looks down at Deacon.  She doesn’t want this to end.  She loves him too much.  A surprised frown forms on her face.  She doesn’t realize he’s watching her.  He touches her arm, running his fingers up her flesh.

She looks over to him as he sits up.  “I love you,” she confesses. 

He grins at her, and laughs.   “I know.  I love you, too.”  He presses his lips to hers.  He pulls back after a moment and studies her.  “I’m not ready to give up on The Railroad, though.  We do a lot of good.”

“I’m… I’m not asking you to leave.”  She rests her palm on his chest, keeping her eyes averted.  “We’ll… I don’t know.  We’ve been apart before for missions.”

“Yeah, but at least I got to come home to you.  Now where’s home?”

Dawn softly smiles at him, his comment warming her heart, but making her feel guilty at the same time.  “If… if Desdemona’s okay with it, I’ll still live there… part-time at least, but I can’t… I’m sorry, Deacon, I can’t work for her anymore.  Not now.”

“Very understandable,” he concedes.  “I won’t push for more.”

“You deserve more, but… I need time.”

“I get it.  I won’t make you choose.  I’m not going anywhere.  At least not very far.”

She smiles at him, and moves to get dressed.  He grabs his clothes off the floor, and starts pulling them on as well.  “Where will you go?  You know, when you’re not with me?”  She sees that he’s hurt.  His eyes are clouded.  He looks away before putting his glasses back on. 

Dawn frowns.  She has some options, but doesn’t really know right now.  She shrugs.  “I guess, Goodneighbor for now.  I’ll lay low at Daisy’s if she’ll let me.  Maybe she could use another guard for her store.”

“I’ll walk you back, at least part-way.  Sound good?”  Dawn nods.  “Then I’ll come find you after a bit.  Give you a little space.”

“Thank-you, Deacon.”  They continue packing up their stuff.  Dawn even grabs a few items from the house they’re in, hoping to sell them later.  When she’s done, she looks around the room, her heart heavy.  This might be the last time she sleeps in the same place as Deacon for a while.  _Am I making the right choice?_

He watches her, sadness and anger hidden behind his shades.  _This whole situation sucks_ , he thinks, but keeps quiet.  He gives her a few more minutes before speaking up.  “I’m ready to go,” he tells Dawn.  “Waiting for you, beautiful.”

Her face lights up, a blush on her cheeks.  She moves over to him, and he takes her hand in his.  Worry crosses her face as they head back out.  “Deacon?  Are we… are we okay?”

He squeezes her hand and looks over to her.  “You don’t ever have to ask, Hubflower.  We’re thick as thieves.”

“Good.  I don’t want to lose you,” she admits.

He chuckles.  “You’d have to try a hell of a lot harder if that’s your goal.” 

“It isn’t.”

“Then we’re great,” he croons as they walk.  “Fantastic even.  Songs will written about our sheer awesome-osity.”

Dawn wrinkles her nose.  “Please tell me you’re not going to sing them.”

“Oh, is that a suggestion I hear?”

“No,” she laughs.

“Too late,” Deacon responds before belting out a few made-up lines.  Dawn laughs at him as they continue south towards Goodneighbor, and their eventual parting of ways.


	35. Music At The Third Rail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to find out the name of a few more songs Dawn's given Magnolia, while the couple takes a moment to relax. 
> 
> ******************************************************************************

Deacon walks Dawn down into Boston before turning towards Lexington.  They part with a kiss and a wave; and a promise to meet up in Goodneighbor in a few days.

Deacon uses the extra time to cool down and work out what he’d like to say to Dez.  He wants answers and going in yelling isn’t going to get them; no matter how much he’d like to do that.

When he arrives at Switchboard, he keeps his cool, and doesn’t rush the eventual meeting.  He shoots the bull with Tommy and Tinker and a few other agents as they come and go.  He heads to his room to gather a few essentials for Dawn.  Packing them up in an extra knapsack.

Once he’s busied himself as much as he can, he stops putting off the inevitable.  Making up his mind, Deacon makes a beeline for Dez’s main hangout.  She’s just dismissing a newbie when he saunters over.

She sighs and picks up a cigarette.  Lightening it, she watches him move closer, a smile plastered to his face.  “Would you like to go first?  You seem to have something on your mind,” she offers.

A slight tick in his jaw is the only indication that he’s pissed.  “Why don’t you start?  Mine can wait.”

“Alright…  Well, I’m sure that she’s mad at me.  And I can understand why.  I thought about telling her where the mission was, but…” Dez shrugs and takes another puff of her cigarette.  “She wouldn’t have gone if I had said.  I imagine she was none too pleased?”

Deacon snorts at that.  “ ‘Pleased’ would be the last word I’d use.  She was hurt, and I took the brunt of it.”

“I’m sure you two patched things up.”

“What’d you get out of it?”  His eyes narrow at her as he picks up a pencil to fiddle with.  The shades keep his tell hidden from her.

“I could’ve sent someone else, sure, but… who knows if they would’ve come back.  I took a gamble, and I need to know if it paid off.”  She levels a gaze at him.

“Depends on what you were after.”

Dez lets out a defeated sigh.  “I appreciate that you’re her ‘knight in shining armor’, but I wasn’t trying to be her enemy this time.  We all know what happened to Al.  The synths came and now he’s dead.  I don’t want us to be next.”

Deacon straightens up, his voice taking on a hard edge.  “And you think she’s to blame?”

“No.  But I consulted P.A.M. and her analysis was... alarming, to say the least.  She feels we’re going to get hit hard, and soon.  I need to know where they’re coming from, and I need to know now.  We can’t stand a chance if we don’t know where’s safe, or how many we’re up against.”

Deacon let’s out a frustrated sigh.  “Okay.  Ya want intel?” he snips.  “We didn’t see a single synth along the way.  Dawn’s left and she’s not coming back, and right now… Right now, I need to step away for a little bit.”

Desdemona eyes widen for a moment and she looks away.  “Shit,” she mutters, crushing her cigarette out.  “Look.  I… I made my decision, and I have to live with it, but I can’t afford to lose agents right now.”

“Well, beds have been made, and now they need to be lied in,” Deacon seethes.  He takes a ragged breath, “I’m not leaving.  But I need a few days.  I’m taking Dawn some of her things.  I’ll come back, but things need to change.  You can’t keep us in the dark.  We risk our lives out there.  I think we’ve earned some trust, **_don’t you_**?”

“Fair enough.  I owe you two a lot.  And I can start with an apology.  I am sorry, Deacon.”  She releases a heavy sigh.  “I can’t say that I wouldn’t have made the same decision if I had to do it again, but I should have given you more information.”

Deacon sets the pencil down, and turns to walk away.  He stops and peers back.  Dez looks exhausted.  He understands some of the strain she’s under keeping everyone safe, but he has to do what’s best for him too.  “I will be back,” he tells her.  She nods.  “And you might see Dawn around, but she… she’ll only be here as a guest.  It’ll take some time to win her back.”

“I won’t beg.”

“I didn’t figure you would.”  A slight smirk touches his lips.

“I will apologize, though,” Dez concedes.  “And I will let her know she has a place here if she wants to come back.”

Deacon acknowledges her comment, and heads out.

********

 

Deacon slides onto the stool next to Dawn, déjà vu hitting him hard.  The circumstances are eerily similar to the last time she took off.  This time, at least, he knew where she was, and the bartender speaks the same language. 

“You don’t call.  You don’t write,” Deacon jests, softly bumping her with his arm.

Dawn sneers at him.  “You saw me two days ago, and you knew where I was going.”

“Sure.  Use logic against me.”  She laughs with him, and he places a kiss on her cheek.  “Care to buy a fella a drink?”

“You bet.  Charlie?”

“What’s your poison?” Whitechapel Charlie asks as he floats down to them.

“I’d like my usual.  From off the menu.  Way off,” Deacon cajoles.

“Suit yourself, but caps up front,” the robot insists.

Dawn drops a few on the countertop while Charlie grabs a bottle from underneath it.  He pours a glass and sets it down.  Dawn wrinkles her nose as the strong smell.  “Do I dare ask?”

“You do not,” Deacon says, taking a sip. 

Charlie picks up the caps and starts to float away.  “Magnolia will be here soon.  Stay for the show.  Buy more drinks,” he throws in.

Dawn chuckles and finishes her Nuka Cola.  “Before Magnolia comes on, I have a bit of a confession to make.”

“Oh?  Are we doing confessions now?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I go first?”

“Sure.”

“I had a talk with Dez.”  Dawn narrows her eyes at the Railroad leader’s name, but keeps silent.  “She apologized… if that means anything to you, and says you’re welcome to drop by anytime.  So… don’t be a stranger, hmm?”

Dawn nods, knowing what it means to Deacon.  “I won’t.”

“Good.  Cuz mi casa es su casa.  Try to remember that.”

She smiles at him.  “I will.”

Deacon takes in a big breath and lets it out.  “Okay.  Now that we got that business out of the way, what’s your confession?”

“Uh… well… two things.  I actually stopped by Bunker Hill on my way here, and asked about a job.  Thought I’d be perfect for guarding the caravans.  I know my way around the Commonwealth, and I’m willing and able to take out any enemies.”

Deacon frowns.  “You’ll be away a lot then?”

“I’ll make time for you.  And I’ll send word on what route I’m on.  You’ll get tired of me.”

“Never,” he whispers, planting a kiss at her temple.  She blushes, and goes to reach for her drink, remembering it’s empty.  “Wanna try mine?” Deacon offers.

“Pass.”   

He beckons the bartender back over.  “So, what’s your second thing?” Deacon asks her.

“Another Nuka Cola,” she orders from Charlie, setting 2 caps down.  He replenishes her drink, and leaves again, taking his caps with him.  Dawn turns to Deacon.  “Number two is… I gave Magnolia another song.”

“And that’s a problem?”

She chuckles.  “No.  But I wrote it out before we were official.”

“Oh.  Are we official now?” he playfully replies.

She scrunches her nose at him, and shoots him a look.  “Yes.  Anyways.  I’m… It made me think of you.  Just the overall song, not the individual lyrics, you know?  I… I hope you don’t read too much into it, or think I was trying to… I don’t know.”

Deacon laughs at Dawn.  “I’m sure it’s fine.  Relax.”  He places a hand on her thigh, and gives her a comforting squeeze.  “And you know I’m going to request it now, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey Charlie?  When’s Magnolia due?”

“Why?  Did you miss me?” Magnolia purrs from beside Deacon.

“Wow.  I must be losing my touch.  I didn’t hear you come in at all,” he remarks.  “Or… Dawn, here, is a really good distraction.”

Dawn blushes but makes no comment.  Her eyes, however, narrow at Magnolia, who glides a hand across Deacon’s shoulders as she moves past.

Magnolia ignores the look.  Flirting keeps the patrons coming back.  She continues her saunter towards the stage, but Deacon stops her.  “Got a song to request,” he calls out.

“Oh, Yeah?”  Magnolia turns back around, one hand on her hip.  Her sultry eyes taking in Deacon.  “Which one?”

“Whichever song this one gave you about me.”  Dawn groans and Deacon fights back a smile.

 “You got it, honey,” she winks.  “ ‘The Great Pretender’ it is.”  Magnolia grins, and continues towards the stage.

“ ‘The Great Pretender’, huh?” Deacon asks Dawn with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“Yeah,” she mumbles, her face red.

“Charlie.  Start the music,” Magnolia croons from the stage.  

********

 

Dawn watches Deacon intensely as he listens.  He’s aware of it and decides to mess with her.  Every now and then he frowns, and even crosses his arms at one point.  He watches her from the corner of his eye; sees her shift nervously, and bite her lip. 

When the song is done, Magnolia goes straight into another.  Deacon gets up, and pulls Dawn further down the bar so they can talk.  Choosing the seats at the end, he orders two Gwinnett Ales from Whitechapel Charlie.

“Here ya go, Mister Deacon.”

“Thanks.”  He pushes one towards Dawn, and takes a drink of his.  He keeps quiet.

Dawn’s too hyped up to stay silent, though.  “Well?”

“Well, what?”  Deacon takes another sip, letting the tension drag out.

“Deacon!”

He laughs.  “It’s a good song.  I can see how it made you think of me when we first met.”

Dawn visibly sighs.  “So you’re not insulted?  Or think I’m trying to end things?”

He chuckles and pulls her close.  “No.  Not insulted.  Not worried about us.  It’s just a song.  And I like to put on act.  I get it.  The Great Pretender is an apt code name for me.”

She grins at him, and takes a drink of her beer.  He studies her for a moment.  “What?” she questions him.

“What song comes to mind when you think of me now?” he asks, genuinely curious.

Dawn takes another sip before answering.  She grimaces and pushes the rest of the bottle towards Deacon.  He takes it without question, knowing she doesn’t care for beer that much.  “I did give Magnolia another song.”

“Can I hear it?”

“We haven’t really gone over the tune yet.”

“Hum it for me.”  Dawn shakes her head.  “Do I at least get a name then?”

She adverts her eyes, her cheeks heating up again.  “ ‘You Send Me’ by Sam Cooke,” she whispers.

Deacon perks up at the title.  “A love song?” he hazards a guess.  She nods, and he chuckles, pulling her in for a quick kiss.  “Sweet.  Then I expect to hear a rendition the next time I stop out here.”


	36. A Little R&R

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacon spends a little time with Dawn in Goodneighbor before heading back to The Railroad. 
> 
> *************************************************************

“It was nice of the Mayor to lend you a place to crash,” Deacon says as he stretches next to Dawn.

“It was,” she agrees, glancing around the room Hancock lent her.  “Daisy, though, called in the favor.”

“Mmm.  Well, that was nice of her then,” Deacon murmurs, pulling Dawn closer and placing a soft kiss on her lips.

He pulls away and nuzzles his face into her neck.  She chuckles at him.  “Too bright in here?” she asks.

“I’m not gonna lie,” he mutters, “but a few curtains to keep out the sun, wouldn’t be a bad investment.”

Dawn laughs and kisses Deacon’s forehead.  “How long you plan on staying?  I imagine Dez doesn’t want you gone too long.”

“How long do you want me for?” he asks picking up his head.

Dawn stares into Deacon’s eye.  The smart comment on her tongue dies.  She lets her eyes drift across his features, a soft smile on lips.  “Forever,” she whispers, a blush staining her cheeks.  “But I can share,” she quickly amends before it becomes too sappy in here.

He chuckles at her as she tries to wiggle away from him; embarrassed.  “You got it,” he says.  She freezes and he plants another kiss on her lips. 

 _He didn’t mean it the way he implied_ , she thinks, but finds it hard to talk past her heart in her throat.  Finally she manages to croak out, “You can’t leave The Railroad.  It means so much to you.”

He grins at her, seeing the panic and uncertainty in her eyes. “I’m not leaving them.  But I’m not leaving you either.  You said you could share.”

“I can,” she reassures him.

“Good.”

She shakes her head as a way of dismissing any lingering confusion she has.  She loves him, but she doesn’t want him giving up his cause for her.  Dawn smiles at him.  “Good,” she parrots back.  “You didn’t really answer my question though,” she reminds him.

Deacon lays back down on the mattress, closing his eyes against the sunlight streaming in.  Dawn watches him for a moment, then stands up and starts to get dressed. 

“A few days,” he replies.  “I didn’t give Dez a timeline, but…” he sighs, “I really should get back.  She’s right, something’s going down, and I want to be close by when it does.”

She hands him a shirt.  “I’ll make sure to let you know if I hear anything once I start working.”

“I know you will.”  He slips the shirt on, and grabs a clean pair of pants.  “Let’s talk about something else today, though.  Like getting some grub.  I’m starved.”

“Me too,” Dawn admits.

********

 

“Hey.  Don’t look so glum,” Deacon jests.  “We’ll see each other in a few days.  Either you find me, or I find you, right?”

Dawn nods at him. 

“We’ll be fine.  We’ve been apart before,” he adds, coming over to her.  He puts a finger under her chin and forces her gaze up.  “We got this,” he says placing a quick kiss on her nose.  She wrinkles it up, but smiles.  “Better?” Deacon asks. 

Dawn gives him a slight nod before looking around the room.  “Got everything?”

“Yeah, but if I forgot something, hold onto it for me.”

“I will.”

“Walk a fella out?” Deacon asks, holding a crooked arm out to her.

“Of course,” she grins, linking her arm in his.

They step on to the landing, and start down the spiral staircase of the Old State House.  “Deacon?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Are… are they mad at me?  I don’t care about Desdemona, but Glory, Tinker, Tommy?”  She looks at him, concerned.

“At you?  Never,” he jokes, trying to placate her.  

“Really?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.

He pauses, and opens the door for her.  Dawn goes outside, and waits at the bottom of the stairs for Deacon. 

He comes over and throws an arm over her shoulders, steering her towards the gate.  Her brow is furrowed as she waits for an honest reply from him.

Deacon lets out a small groan.  “Look, they get it,” he tells her honestly, “but your timing… is off.  We **could** use your help.”  Dawn tenses and starts to protest.  “Hey.  Don’t shoot the messenger.  You do what you need to do, Dawn.  I just thought you’d appreciate the truth.”

“I do,” she says as they near the gate.  “I… I just can’t right now.” 

“I know.”  He turns to face her as they stop walking.  She looks at him with anguish in her eyes. “Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Deacon tells her.

She takes a breath, and looks away.  “I hope I didn’t start something at headquarters,” she trails off.

Deacon scoffs.  “You.  Are a terrible liar.  That’s exactly what you hoped for.”  Dawn opens her mouth to argue, but Deacon cuts her off.  “Sorry to break your heart, but no one picked a side.  We all still have to work together.”

“I know that,” Dawn pouts.

“If it makes you feel any better, Dez knows we’re not happy with how things went down, but life goes on.”

Dawn glares at him, not liking his reply.  “No, it doesn’t make me feel better,” she snipes.

“The truth hurts, I know.”

“You’re being a jerk.”

Deacon takes a deep breath and nods.  “You’re right and I’m sorry.  I wish I could give you the answer you want, but…” Deacon shrugs.

Dawn lets out a heavy sigh.  “Yeah, I get it.”  And she does.  She didn’t really want to cause a mutiny, _but would a little in-house fighting have been so bad?_

Deacon pulls her in for a hug, taking in everything about her.  He doesn’t really want to go, but duty beckons.  “Make sure to let me know where you are.  And give ‘em hell out there, okay?”

She nods against his chest, and hugs him tighter.  After a few tender moments, she steps back.  “I’ll try to get away as soon as I can but it could be a while.”

“That’s fine as long as I know you’re missing me as much as I’ll miss you.”

“More.”

“I doubt it, but okay.”  Deacon gives her a kiss before pulling away.  He steps through the gate, and tosses her a wave before disappearing from sight.

Dawn signs again and heads back to her temporary room.  _Time to pack_ , she thinks.

********

 

With her pack slung over her shoulder, she heads to the mayor’s main room. 

“Clearing out?” Hancock asks her from his position on the couch. 

“Yes.  Thank you for lending me the room.”

“ ‘Course, Hubflower, and no need to be so formal.”  Dawn frowns a bit at his comment.  “Somethin’ you wanna share?” Hancock muses.

“Deacon hates you calling me that.  Well.. perhaps ‘hate’ is too strong a word.”

The mayor snorts out a laugh.  “Oh, yeah, why’s that?  He think I’m going to steal you from him?” he asks amused.

Dawn smiles. “No.  That’s just his nickname for me too.”

“Mmm,” Hancock comments.  “Great minds think alike, right?”

“Guess so.”

“Well, I hope the room was sufficient.”

“It was.  Thanks.”  Dawn starts to turn away and leave, but Hancock speaks up again.

“So, if you don’t mind me being nosy, where you headin’ next?  Now that you’re done with The Railroad and all.  Personally, I always thought their mission lacked a little foresight.  You know?”

“How so?” Dawn asks, though she’s had similar thoughts.

“What happens when there’s no more synths to help?  Or when the Institute changes their programming so they don’t escape anymore?”

Dawn furrows her brow as she considers her answer.  “Then, hopefully, they start helping someone else.”

“Is that what you’re going to do?  March around The Commonwealth helping others?”  Dawn shrugs, and the Mayor continues, “There’s always someone to help, so it’s not a bad idea if you know how to stay safe, which you seem more than capable of doing.  Got a destination in mind?”

“Bunker Hill.”

“Working with the caravans?” Hancock surmises.  Dawn nods.  “You watch yourself out there, and come back anytime you need a little R&R.”

Dawn smiles at the ghoul.  “I will.  And thanks again.”

********


	37. A Short Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn makes a pitstop at Switchboard before heading back out with the caravan.
> 
> **************************************************************

Dawn approaches the Slocum Joes.  The light from the sun quickly fading.  She scans the area making sure she didn’t attract any unwanted attention with her arrival.  It seems safe enough so she heads for the exposed tunnel leading down.

She waves a weak “hi” to one of the agents as she makes her way through the labyrinth, slipping once on a set of wet stairs. 

The caravan has definitely kept her busy these past few weeks.  She’s managed to send a few messages to various agents about synth activity she’s noticed, and had one night away with Deacon when he met her by The Slog.  Otherwise, she’s walked a lot of miles across The Commonwealth, and had her fair share of battles.

Now she’s just looking for a few days to catch up on some much needed sleep.

She continues her slow journey down the halls, slumping against a wall as she tries to remember her way around.  It takes a moment for the fog to lift from her addled brain, but she finds her bearings.

Eventually she makes her way to her room and pushes the door open.  Deacon’s sitting on the bed reading when Dawn enters.  She gives him a weak smile and a little wave before stepping onto the mattress.  Deacon just has enough time to scoot over before Dawn drops down.  She lands softly, though less than gracefully, and Deacon chuckles at her.  A smile ghosts her lips and she mumbles a goodnight to him before drifting off.

He sets his book down and brushes the hair off of her face.  He places a kiss on her cheek before getting up to shut the door.  Deacon comes back over, and turns off the lantern.  He does his best to maneuver himself into a semi-comfortable spot.  He barely manages to mold around her and stay on the mattress.  He listens to her steady breathing, and enjoys the feel of her beside him.  Eventually he drifts off to sleep as well.

********

 

Dawn’s eyes flutter open and she stretches her stiff muscles. 

“Morning, sunshine,” Deacon greets her from the doorway.  He comes in bearing food on a tray.

“Breakfast in bed?” Dawn asks, sitting up.

“Yep.  And you’ll be happy to hear that it was my morning to cook so it’s guaranteed to be a culinary delight.”

Dawn laughs at him.  “Let me clean up, and I’ll be right back.”

“And I’ll be right here,” Deacon comments, setting the food down on the chair he pulled away from the corner of the room.

********

 

“You know, last night reminded me of the first time we slept together,” Deacon says, tearing off another piece of his sweet roll.

“How so?” Dawn asks, confusion stamped on her face.

Deacon chuckles.  “You don’t remember our first time?”  He quirks an eyebrow in her direction.

“Of course I do,” she mutters, a blush creeping up as she looks away.

Deacon laughs again.  “No.  When we had just met?  We were exhausted and crashed in a shack under the highway.  You took over the whole mattress that time too.”

Dawn sneers at him.  “You could’ve just pushed me over.  And I was tired,” she grumbles.

“A gentleman doesn’t move a sleeping lady.”

“Oh, what manners you have,” Dawn mocks.

“Hey, that’s good advice.  With as tired as you were, you could’ve attacked me.  I was playing it safe.”

Dawn throws her roll at Deacon, who catches it and takes a bite before handing it back.

“How long do I have you for?” he asks around the food in his mouth.

“I thought you had manners,” she remarks.

“Nope,” he grins.

“Umm… I have to leave tomorrow afternoon.  I’m to meet back up with the caravan around The Abernathy farm.”

“Good.  You can keep me company on my patrol rounds.”

“Ugh.” Dawn replies.

********

 

“I hate to say it, but whatever’s going to happen… I hope it’s soon.  Then we can get back to our mission, and maybe I can see you more than twice a month,” Deacon gripes.

“Just play a card,” Glory comments.  “You’re holding up the game.”

“Sure.  Ruin the moment with your demands,” Deacon retorts, setting a 4 of clubs on the pile.

“I’ll try to make more time, but I have to find a permanent route.  Right now they have me mostly filling in.”  Dawn watches Glory put a 4 of diamonds on top of Deacon’s card.  She wrinkles her nose.  She doesn’t have any diamonds.  She draws a card from the pile, then another, and another, until she has a card she can play.

“Yeah, well, I hope they tire themselves out looking for us,” Glory states.  “I don’t mind us being secret, but I like being able to go outside once in a while.”

“Sunshine is good,” Deacon agrees, placing an 8 of hearts on the pile.  “Spades,” he calls.

“Ugh, really?” Glory complains.

Dawn chuckles at her friend.  She’s missed this, and hopes that Glory’s right.  She doesn’t want anything to happen to the people at The Railroad.  She also hopes everything blows over soon.

********

 

But “blow over” it does not.  Word reaches Dawn while she’s on route to The Prydwen. 

As the caravan comes up to the Brotherhood’s base, she hears talk about synth’s attacking a Slocum Joe’s in the middle of nowhere.

“What’s even out there but that old building and part of a broken highway?” one scribe asks another, who just shrugs.

Dawn stops in her tracks.  The other caravan members pause and look at her.  Her face is pale, and she looks like she might throw up. 

“You okay?” one them asks her.

“I have to go,” Dawn announces to no one in particular.  She turns and leaves with quick steps and a heavy heart.

The scribes watch her go, unsure of what prompted her sudden departure.  The caravan workers simply shrug it off and head inside to trade with the BoS.


	38. Tragedy Strikes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn arrives to see the devastation done to The Railroad. 
> 
> ********************************************

When Dawn arrives at the Slocum Joes she sees some of the destruction, and can already smell the stench of death.

Tears spring to her eyes as guilt and worry hit her hard.  She should’ve been here.  She could’ve helped.  They all saw the warning signs.  She knew they’d get hit.  Why did she think it was okay to leave?  Who cares about her beef with Dez?

She stands there crying, afraid to go inside.  Afraid of what she’ll find.  _What if… what if he’s dead?_   _What if they’re all dead?_ She starts to cry harder.  Her legs give out and she falls to the ground, unable, and unwilling to pick herself up.

She stays like that for a while until a hand on her shoulder jerks her out of her grief.  She looks up to see Drummer Boy.  Her heart leaps at the knowledge that someone survived. 

Dawn jumps to her feet and throws her arms around him, clinging to him as if she’s drowning.  She cries into his denim jacket, but now they are tears of relief.

He holds her tightly; sadness in his embrace.

Reluctantly they pull away.  Dawn wipes the tears off of her cheek scared to ask the question they both know she wants to ask.  Instead she remains quiet, fear in her eyes.

Drummer Boy tries to talk, but falters.  He clears his throat, and tries again.  “He’s okay,” he chokes out.

Tears well up again, but Dawn keeps them from falling.  She doesn’t speak, only nods her head in understanding.

“Come on,” Drummer Boy tells her.  She follows him, her hand tucked into his for comfort.

“They came fast, and they came hard,” he tells her as he leads her on.  “We thought we’d have more notice so we could escape, but…” his voice cracks, and he pauses for a moment before walking again.  “But there was no time.”

They continue the rest of the way in silence, stepping around fallen comrades and the broken bodies of dead synths.

They both avert their eyes as they walk.  The battle is too fresh to take in.

Dawn expected silence when she entered Switchboard, but instead she’s greeted by a cacophony of bustling agents.  She sees shellshock on their faces, but purpose as well.

Drummer Boy lets go of her hand and moves away into the swell of activity, leaving Dawn to stand there unsure of herself.

“We need to clear out before they come back!  We won’t be able to withstand another assault,” comes Dez’s authoritative voice.

Dawn looks at her and anger takes control.  She marches over.  Her resolve wavering as she takes in that both Glory and Deacon are okay.  But then she remembers who she stepped over to get down here… Tommy Whispers.  And he was her friend.

“You’re leaving??” she asks, her voice raising. 

Dez takes her in, but doesn’t stop what she’s doing, which is directing the other agents to clear out.  “Yes, we are.”

“But… But what about the bodies?  We’re just going to leave them here?”

“Yes, we are,” Desdemona repeats.  Doc Carrington comes over, and shows Dez some supplies he’s holding.  She nods her head at them, and he proceeds to pack them into a nearby crate.

“Really??  That’s it?” Dawn continues.  “We’re not going to bury them?  Just leave them to lay out for… for Raiders and Radroaches to pick over!?  They were our friends!” Dawn shouts, choking on her emotion.

Everyone in the room seems to halt what they’re doing, watching the scene before them.  Dawn and Dez ignore them.

“And **what** would **you** have me do?” Desdemona asks calmly, but with a hard edge.  “We don’t have the luxury of time or resources right now.  I **need** to get these people to safety while there are still people to save.”

Dawn’s eyes scan the room.  She sees her pain reflexed in the other members.  Deacon moves over to her without her realizing.  He places a hand on her arm, but doesn’t meet her gaze.  His voice is low and thick.  She wonders if he’s been crying.

“We…” he starts, but stops.  “Dez is right.  We… we don’t have the time.  Maybe,” he chokes out, “Maybe someday soon we can come back and give them the burial they deserve, but…”  He looks up at her, shades covering his eyes, but she call tell he’s distraught.  “They wouldn’t want us to die taking care of corpses.  You know that as well as I do.” 

Dawn can see he’s trying to make her understand that this isn’t an easy decision.  She nods reluctantly, then turns back to Desdemona. 

But seeing the leader of The Railroad causes some of her anger return.  “And where will you go?  Where’s safe?” Dawn demands.

“We have a location already set up,” Dez replies before she turns away for a moment.  “Someone go help Tinker Tom before he drops that!”

Dawn steps a little closer as the room starts to hum back to life; everyone collectively agreeing that whatever was going to happen has dissipated.  They continue with their task of grabbing all essentials, and quickly.

Dropping her voice low, Dawn asks Desdemona point blank, “Do you blame me?”

Dez, at least, has the good grace to look taken aback.  “On what?  This?” she gestures to the room.

“Yes.  The synths attacked here like they attacked Al, only… only not everyone died this time.”  Deacon takes her hand in his, but does nothing else.  Dawn glances over, having forgotten that he was there.  She squeezes his hand and waits for a reply.

Dez takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly.  “Look.  I… I know you’re angry, and that’s fair, but this… this wasn’t you.  We take risks.  And we’ve been on The Institute’s shit list for a while.  This was bad, but it could’ve been a lot worse.”  She approves a few more items for packing from an agent that reluctantly approaches, then turns her attention back to Dawn.  “And while I get that you’re probably not coming back, you’re here now, and we could really use the extra help.”

Deacon tightens his grip on Dawn’s hand hoping she’ll stay but afraid to ask.  She flicks her eyes to him then back to Desdemona.  With the adrenaline starting to wear off, Dawn just feels tired and beat-down.  Slowly she nods.

“Good,” Dez states.  “Grab what you can, and let’s head out.  Ten minutes, everyone!”

*********

 

Dawn collects everything she can and then some, weighing herself down.

“You could save some for the rest of us to carry,” Glory quips.

Dawn hefts another bag onto her shoulder.  “I got this,” she mutters, plodding away.

“You need to do something about that, Deacon.  She’s going to wear herself out and will be no good to anyone if we need to fight.”

“I’m on it,” he sighs.

Deacon tries his best to get Dawn out of her funk.  He offers to help carry some of her load, not that he doesn’t have his own, but she brushes him off.  He tries joking with her which earns him half-hearted smiles, but nothing else. 

Finally he gives up, and falls back by Tinker and Glory.

“At least you tried man,” Tinker Tom says.

Each time they stop to rest, Dawn sits away from the group, but keeps watch.  She sleeps very little, eats only when someone brings her food, and helps scout ahead for trouble, even though no one asks her to.  Deacon and her friends keep trying to pull her out of her depression, but to no avail.   

“You won’t bring them back by being a martyr,” Dez comments on the last day of their journey.

Dawn glares at her but remains silent.  _What does she know?  She was at least there to help when the synths came.  And where was I?_

Dawn remains quiet all the way to the Old North Church.  She shows little surprise at being back near Goodneighbor; mostly because she’s too exhausted to notice. 

“Here we are,” Dez tells everyone.  “Let’s get inside, and get set up.”

They make their way under the building and into the catacombs.  Dawn trudges along with everyone else, barely aware of her environment until Deacon speaks up.

“Great,” he says.  “Another base deep underground.  Far away from the Watcher’s watching eye, right?  Wouldn’t hurt to have a view once in a while though,” Deacon grumbles.

“It’ll do for now,” Desdemona tells him as she walks to the center of the main room.  “Okay everyone.  This is our new home.  It’s not as nice as Switchboard, and we’re back to sharing living space, but…” she looks around at the agents, “but perhaps it’s best to be close while we heal.” 

Dez sets her bags down, and starts pointing.  “For now, let’s put the Doc’s stuff over there, Ticker’s over here, food there, and beds up here.  We’ll throw together a meal, choose shifts, and try to get some rest.  I’m… I’m glad some of us made it out alive.  Let’s not forget our mission, and let’s not forget those we’ve lost along the way.”  Dez clears her throat and moves to help unload some of the supplies.

The mood is very solemn as agents begin unloading their inventory.

Dawn keeps trying to help put things away, but someone comes up and takes items out of her hands.  She’s too tired to do much about it but grumble.

After the 4th try, Deacon takes her hand and pulls her along.  He drags her to the corner and practically pushes her down onto a mattress.

“Deacon!  What are you doing?” she hisses.

“Making you take a break.  You’re no good to us like this, or didn’t you hear Glory?”

She scowls at him but says nothing.

“Lay,” he orders.

Begrudgingly she does, but defiantly she keeps her eyes open; staring at the ceiling.

Deacon moves away only to return a second later.  He drapes a blanket over her.  It’s worn and scratchy, but somehow feels great.  A slow grin softens Dawn’s features.

“Thank-you,” she murmurs, followed by a yawn.

Deacon crouches next to her and brushes a few tendrils of hair off her face.  She leans a bit into his comforting hand.

“Get some rest, Hubflower.  They’ll still be work for you when you wake.”

Dawn slowly nods as her eyes drift shut.  The last thing she’s aware of is a loving kiss placed on her forehead.


	39. Old North Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn finally unpacks with a little help from Deacon.
> 
>  
> 
> *****************************

Dawn sleeps through two meals before finally getting up.  She’s stiff and groggy. 

She watches the activity around her as her mind slowly wakes up.

_Just like a hive._   A thought she’s had before while observing how everyone moves around Headquarters.

She stretches, and decides to find a place to clean up so she can be a busy bee too; her self-loathing still there.

*********

 

Deacon moves up behind Dawn in the chow line.  “Alright,” he starts, “We let you mope traveling here and left you to sleep, yet you’re still down in the dumps.  We’re talking now.”

She casts him a quick unfriendly look.

“It’s my job to help a friend in need.  Besides,” he shrugs, “I’ve got all night, and day, and night, you know.”

Dawn releases a heavy sigh.  “Fine.”

“Oh, good.  That’s a start,” Deacon comments.  “Gonna need more words though.”

Dawn turns and glares at him as they move closer to the food.

“Want me to start then?” he offers.

She watches him warily, then nods.

He removes his glasses, then takes a breath and releases it.  “We lost some good people,” he says softly and her agitation turns to sadness.  “And those people were… friends… and family.”  Tears well up in both of their eyes.  Dawn’s lower lips trembles a little as she meets Deacon’s gaze.

A voice startles them as Glory speaks up, “Yeah we did.”

“Damn good people,” Tinker adds, and he hands a plate to Dawn, then one to Deacon.

Dawn lets a few tears escape as she nods her head in agreement.  Deacon slings an arm over her shoulder, and steers her to some chairs.

Glory sits down next to them.  “Remember the time Tommy reached into that duffle bag expecting weapons and instead got bit by a Radroach?  The look on his face was priceless.  Even he started laughing after we killed the thing.”

Dawn snickers.  “That was pretty funny.”

“Ooh,” Deacon jumps in.  “How about the time I convinced Maven my arm wasn’t real?”

“She didn’t believe you.  She kept disagreeing with you,” Glory argues.

“At first.  But then she got so annoyed with me that she grabbed it, only for it to fall off.”  Deacon laughs.  “That was a good one.  Classic mannequin arm up the sleeve.”

“Yeah, but it got even funnier after she was over her shock and tried to hit you with it.  Watching Maven chase you around with that arm…”  Glory chuckles.  “You deserved that.”

Deacon laughs again, agreeing.  “It was still worth it.”

They spend the rest of the meal reminiscing about their fallen comrades.  Other agents move over and join in, sharing their own stories.  The group gets larger and larger as the hours pass.

By the end of it, Dawn has mostly forgiven herself, but her heart will always be a little heavier with the knowledge that she might have made a difference if she had been there.  Thankfully no one else seems to hold a grudge against her.

_They really are a great bunch of people_ , she thinks leaning on Deacon’s arm.

“Bed?” he asks.  She nods against him, and he leads her to an empty mattress.  Pulling a blanket over top of them, he holds her close.

There are whispered conversations drifting around them as the others settle down for the night.  Dawn shifts a fraction of an inch closer to Deacon (that’s all the room there is), and falls into a dreamless sleep.

*********

 

For once, Dawn wakes up before Deacon.  It’s a rare treat when she gets to watch him sleep.  It’s never more than a few minutes though as he always seems to know when she’s awake.

He cracks a sleepy eye open.  “Like what you see?”

She playfully shoves him as he sits up, and turns to face her.

“Mmm.  A smile.  I’ve missed those,” Deacon comments.  He covers a large yawn with his hand.  “But I suppose there’s been a lot going on lately.”

Dawn nods in agreement, watching him thoughtfully.  These last few weeks have been a roller coaster ride of intense emotions.  She misses the ease she used to have when she was with The Railroad.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Deacon chastises, “no frowning today.”  He uses a finger to push the skin between her eyebrows back up, smoothing the creases there.

Dawn laughs at him.  “Why not today?”

“Cuz **you’re** going to help me unpack, and then **we** get to round up some ferals.  Yay,” he says with lackluster enthusiasm.

Dawn chuckles at him.  “I’m sorry.  What are we doing and why?”

“Unpacking.  You never did put those boxes of yours away.”

“Oh.  Yeah,” she comments with a slight cringe.  She can only imagine what things she’s stuffed in there and forgotten.  “Fine, but what was that second thing?”

“Rounding up some ferals?”

“Right.  That one.”

“Ah, well,” Deacon starts, “Glory came up with the bright idea of putting ferals in the catacombs.  Personally, I am not a fan,” he mock-shivers at the idea, “but if it deters someone who am I to say no?” 

“So now you’re volunteering me?”

Deacon grabs Dawn by her ankle, and pulls her closer.  “You bet,” he whispers before planting a kiss on her lips.  “‘Misery loves company’, right?”

“Mmm,” she replies, “but… maybe… one more kiss and I’ll consider helping you,” she murmurs, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Demanding are we?”  Dawn nods.  “Done.”  He wraps an arm around her waist, and kisses her deeply.  He plants his other hand on the mattress to keep himself from pushing her down.  Deacon doesn’t mind public displays of affection, but he draws the line at giving everyone a peepshow.

They pull away, their breathing slightly erratic.  Deacon loosens his grip, but doesn’t let Dawn go just yet.  “I have to say I’m glad we don’t put you in charge of negotiations.  You’d give away the farm for a few beans.”

“Hey.  I’d at least keep the cow,” Dawn counters.

He laughs at her, placing one more quick kiss on her lips before getting up off the mattress.  “Breakfast?” he asks, holding a hand out to her.

Dawn takes it, letting Deacon pull her up.  “You know, Jack got it right, though,” Dawn says as they slowly walk to the stove.  “I know the moral is supposed to be about how he was an idiot to trade the cow for beans, but think of what came after.  At the end his family was rich and famous.”

“Yeah, if you ignore the whole ‘almost got killed by a giant’ part.”

“True, but it still worked out.”

Deacon lifts their joined hands to his lips.  “I love you, but I still say you’re a bad negotiator.”

“Jerk,” Dawn mutters as she lets a laughing Deacon drag her thru Headquarters.

********

 

After a hearty breakfast of crispy squirrel bits and mutfruit, they grab several boxes with their names on them and head over to a row of lockers tucked in a back corner. 

“Is it dark over here so no one sees what you’re storing?  Or so no one can see if someone tries to steal your stuff?” Dawn asks uncertainly.

“Thought you could see in the dark?” Deacon retorts, bumping her hips with his.

“I can, but what about the others?”

“I’ll requisition a lamp if it makes you happy.”

“It would,” Dawn replies setting her boxes down.

“Consider it done, then,” Deacon grins at her, setting his own boxes down.

“So which lockers are ours?”

“These two.  And right next to each other for convenience.”

Dawn chuckles and watches him open the locks.  “Here’s your key, madam.”

“And here’s your box, sir.”

Deacon takes it and pulls back the flap, peering inside.  “Actually, this is yours.”  Dawn frowns and opens the flaps the rest of the way.  She rifles thru the box as he holds it.  Finally taking it from him, she sits down and continues sorting the items inside. 

Deacon crouches next to her and pulls out a few odds and ends.  “Either you’re a bit of a pack rat, or you’re more sentimental than I thought.  Why’d you keep a piece of chalk, bubblegum, and is that a glass milk bottle?”

“Don’t criticize,” Dawn snarks reaching for her things.

“What else you got in here?”

“Some pre-war money, and a tv tray.”  Deacon gives her an amused look.  “What?” she says.  “I don’t have anything from before, and I just want some things to remind me.”

Deacon holds his hands up in mock-surrender.  “Just giving you a hard time.  That said, you know bubblegum gives you rads.”

“I know,” Dawn answers with a smirk and an eye roll.  “It’s just a memento.”  She goes back to seeing what else is in her box.  Deacon, meanwhile, pulls one of the other boxes to him to see what it holds.  Dawn only vaguely sees what he’s doing.  She’s found a little slip of paper at the bottom.

She pulls it out and looks at it, grumbling to herself.

“What’s that?” Deacon asks.

Dawn looks up at him, shame written on her face.  “The coupon Tinker Tom gave me on my anniversary.”

“Why the face?  Use it now.”

“Really?  You don’t think he holds a grudge?”

“Why would he?”

“Cuz I never intended to use this.”

“Why not?”

“Forgive me for not wanting people to poke around my cybernetics.”

“Sorry,” Deacon apologies.  “It’s easy to forget that’s a sensitive subject for you.”

Dawn frowns again at the paper.  “I don’t really need his help, you know?  They taught me how to fix myself in case I was too far from the vault for retrieval.”  Bitterness edges her voice.  “Jokes on them I guess.  They gave me the means to leave.”

Deacon leans forward and places a comforting hand on her knee. 

“It’s not all bad, though,” Dawn shrugs. 

“Oh, yeah?  What’s the upside?  Besides the cool looking eye, and indestructible appendages?”

Dawn snorts a laugh at Deacon.  “That I can help Nick, too.  He can do the basics, but I can help him with the more advanced stuff.”

“That is a good silver-lining,” Deacon says, straightening back up, an item on his lap catching Dawn’s eye.

“Yeah, it is.”  She looks at the slip of paper again, a thoughtful expression on her face now.  “You know, maybe I could compromise.”

“How so?”

“I could offer to show him what I know.  It might make repairing any synths easier.”

“Smart idea.  I like it.”

“Alright.  Enough being melancholy,” Dawn says.  “Care to tell me what you have there?”  She quirks an eyebrow at him, and gestures to the book in his lap.

“This?” Dawn nods as Deacon closes her notebook, and nonchalantly holds it.  “Don’t know.  I just found it.”

“Mmm.  Anything interesting in it?”

“I might have caught a word or two.”

Dawn chuckles at him.  “You can read it.  I don’t mind,” she says, her cheeks warming up.  “But maybe don’t tell me which parts you read?”

He laughs.  “I think I’ll just tuck it back in here.  Seems personal.”

Dawn shrugs and starts neatly stacking items back into the box, leaving the “One Free Tune-up” slip to the side.  “It’s mostly about you anyways,” she tells him, unable to make eye contact.

“I know,” he replies, helping her clean up.  “One of the words I might have seen was my name a few dozen times.”

“Don’t judge,” Dawn pouts, folding the flaps down.

“The only thing I got out of it was that this Deacon guy seems pretty important to you.”

“Maybe,” she begrudgingly admits as he takes the box from her.

“Good,” he says, putting her things in her locker.  “I hear he thinks you’re pretty important, too.” 

Dawn tries to stop the goofy grin, his confession brings, from spreading across her face. 

She’s unsuccessful. 


End file.
